


Skeleton Summer

by Jnpie



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Constructive Criticism Welcome, Eye Trauma, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gore, HT Papyrus needs love, Horrortale Papyrus (Undertale), Hurt/Comfort, LOVE HIM DANGIT, M/M, No Smut, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Saved Horrortale, adapted from a branching-path story, not a slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28696782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jnpie/pseuds/Jnpie
Summary: You've returned to your hot and humid hometown of Ebbot for a summer vacation, even though you'd have preferred to stay away. As you do your best to make the most of your time here, you are able to meet and befriend (or drive away, depending on your choices) four AU's worth of (mostly) friendly monsters. In your attempts to be responsible, you wind up making fast friends with a lonely skeleton. And though you are both trying to put your best foot forward, you're bound to uncover some uncomfortable truths if you get close enough.
Relationships: Papyrus & Sans (Undertale), Papyrus (Undertale) & Reader, Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Sans & Reader, horrortale papyrus/reader
Comments: 46
Kudos: 48





	1. Introduction to the island; introduction to monsters

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dentist Visit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18566170) by [Somerandomauthorrr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somerandomauthorrr/pseuds/Somerandomauthorrr). 



> I tagged this as Papyrus/Reader AND as Horrortale Papyrus/Reader, but just to be clear--this is only a Horrortale Papyrus/Reader story. I figured the first tag was not especially popular and that some people looking for Papyrus/Reader might possibly be interested anyway :)
> 
> Check out my story "One Day" if you want to read a depressing story about HT Papyrus not fitting in above ground. The events in that story make this one a little more meaningful, in my opinion, but this is still meant to stand on its own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to skip this chapter if you want to jump straight into the HORRORTALE PAPYRUS FLUFF. I fear I may have made this too long but I did not really want to cut out interactions with non-skeleton characters.

There are all sorts of reasons for taking a trip.

Often, people travel for fun. They visit places they've always wanted to see, or places they already love. Those trips transform the world around you into a dreamscape where anything feels possible and everything is memorable.

Traveling for work is also not uncommon, but those sorts of trips can become mundane and repetitive.

Actually....you don't really know what those types of trips feel like, that's only your guess.

Maybe business trips feel just as exciting as leisure trips because someone else is usually paying for it.

A loud chime interrupts your wandering mind. Over the din of the other travelers, you can vaguely hear a woman announce that your flight is boarding. A massive line of people forms instantly...what a pain. But this is just how it is, right? When you travel together with a lot of other people, you can't all board at the same time.

You wonder why all these other people are traveling, anyway. You wonder why they happen to be going to Ebbot. It used to be that Ebbot was the last place anyone would want to go.

Discreetly, you glance at some of your fellow passengers. You see someone with a briefcase and a cell phone to their ear, and assume they are travelling for work. But you could be wrong.

You aren't 100 percent sure about your own reasons for taking this trip, actually. Some stupid form asked you if it was “business” or “leisure”. It was frustrating to have to pick one since they were both wrong.

Sure, you aren't going to be doing any work, but...it feels disingenuous to call this a leisure trip since you didn't really want to take it. You recognize that it shouldn’t annoy you this much. But it itches your brain to think about calling this a 'vacation', though.

It's more of an 'obligation'. An obligatory trip.

Your vapid, meandering thoughts distract you for quite some time. It isn’t long before you are stepping into the narrow walkway leading up to the plane.

You can feel a tension building in you.

It continues to build as you find your seat.

It forms a knot in your stomach as the plane finally starts to move. It's because you can't turn around anymore. You can't casually just turn around and leave.

You're stuck on this plane and you're going to Ebbot. And when you get there your mom's going to meet you and you don't know how you feel about that.

And for three whole weeks you won't have anything to do. This is stupid.

You shouldn’t have come. The plane is speeding up now, it's taking off and there's nothing you can do about it.

Meekly, passively, up until this point you went along with it because you weren’t strong enough to think of another option.

But anything would have been better than this, right? What if the plane has a problem and malfunctions before you can even get into the sky?! You might die here!

You realize that the noise of the plane taking off is making these thoughts worse. Quickly you retrieve the pack of gum that you bought on your coworker’s recommendation. It’s supposed to help your ears but you only want it as a distraction for now.

You're glad to be sitting by the window now, as you focus on your breathing and fix your gaze out the window. You can block out the rest of the cabin this way.

You find a point on the ground and latch onto it with your gaze. You watch it shrink. It isn't long before it disappears completely into the landscape.

You try to imagine all your fear and frustration, stuck back on the ground somewhere. It'd be so far away that you can't see it from here.

It wouldn’t exist anymore. Out of sight, out of mind.

Yeah...that feels good...you can feel it melting away now. This is going to be okay. It's going to be okay, you tell yourself.

It's going to be okay, because. Because…

Well. You can’t think of any real reason why. You don't have the determination to continue with this train of thought, and opt instead to lean your head against the window and doze.

Thankfully, the rest of the flight was uneventful (though landing was a bit stressful). You didn't realize it before, but flying was kind of scary. You always used this excuse on your parents when talking about why you couldn't come back to visit...It was such a convenient excuse, you had forgotten it was actually true.

It's been a really long time since you were back in Ebbot. You feel nervous about meeting your mom in the airport and that makes you feel a bit ashamed. You can’t remember now why it was so important to you to leave here in the first place. Mom never intentionally did anything to hurt you. It feels like time slows down when you see her standing there, waiting for you with a homemade “Welcome Home!” sign.

She looks really happy.

As she wraps her arms around you, you don’t resist. You can't believe you didn't realize how much you'd missed her.

And when was the last time you hugged another person like this? You honestly don't know. It feels....really nice.

You thought back to the image you created in your mind of all your problems, fears, and frustrations being stuck behind on the ground. Even though it was only something you had conjured up to help yourself calm down in a stressful moment, you realized that you could make that idea real.

Maybe you really could put off all those problems until you got back. That's what a vacation is supposed to be for anyway, right?

You have the power to turn this obligatory trip into a trip that you can confidently refer to as a “vacation”. Maybe even...the start of a new life entirely, depending on how you play your cards.

Mom relishes the opportunity to relay to you the history of monsters on the island. Even though you already know all about it, you let her ramble. You would prefer not to talk about how life abroad is treating you.

But there is one thing you want to know...

“Mom...are monsters and humans really getting along?”

She doesn’t take her eyes off the road as she grins in response. “Oh, yeah! Definitely! As far as I can tell, anyway.”

“Do you have friends that are monsters, then? I'd...really like to meet some.” You feel weird saying that out loud. Is it...inappropriate to only want to befriend someone because they are a monster?

Mom heartily confirms. “Sure, sure! Hmm, let's see...I have a book club meeting tomorrow morning, and actually, most of the other members are monsters. You should come!”

Going to a book club with your mom is now the first and only thing you have planned for your weeks-long 'vacation'. It's not much, but it's a start. You like to read books, so maybe it'll be fun.

Suddenly, you can see a city skyline up ahead, above the trees. And then--it's jarring how quickly you go from rural to urban landscape.

Woah...how is this possible? An entire city has sprang up in the time since you left home. Mom drops you off at an apartment complex that looks practically brand new. You won't be able to stay there the whole time, but a friend of a friend offered to let you stay in her place for a little while in exchange for taking care of a few chores for her.

There is a picturesque garden in the center of four connected buildings. It looks like a nice place to walk, especially since it seems there’s no one here. You had noticed a sign advertising a move-in special out by the road and you wonder how many of these units are empty.

The apartment isn't large at all, but it still feels spacious and even a bit empty. It doesn't appear to be lived-in much, so it feels a little stiff. But you don't mind. Maybe that's less awkward than feeling like you're staying in someone else's home.

You try to let your shoulders drop down as you set down your luggage by the bed. Unfortunately, you're a bit too tense to make much of a difference that way. Idly you wonder how much it might cost to get a massage.

Curling up in the plush bed, you take a minute to think. You would never actually do that back in your usual, everyday life. So maybe you actually should.

If you're really going to make this a fun vacation, you decide you should just go for it. If it would help you relax, you are willing to try anything.

You quickly pull out your phone and make a numbered list.

  1. Go to book club
  2. Get a massage



You want to sit down and think seriously about other things you might want to do, but the bed is so inviting, and your eyelids so heavy, that you abandon the quest temporarily in favor of a nap.

Later,your parents suggest a few things. Not all of them suit you, but a couple do.

  1. Explore New Town
  2. Join a Monster-Human relations event



They had also suggested “reconnect with childhood friends”. You....don't know how to casually tell them that you didn't really have friends growing up.

Besides. A lot of people you went to school with have probably also left the island. You don't actually know, because you haven't kept in touch with anyone at all. But, statistically, a lot of people your age have moved away, so...you decide it isn’t worth considering.

Jet lag has thrown off your sleep to the point that you end up sleeping in quite late the next morning. You notice upon waking that you have a new message:

“AUTO-REMINDER: This is Dr. Dentist's office, reminding you of your appointment tomorrow at 0x:xx AM. Please text back 'OK' to confirm your appointment.”

..........Ohhhh yeaah. You forgot all about that. You'd made an appointment to get your teeth cleaned and checked up while you were in town. The dentist here was way cheaper than abroad, so it only made sense to get it out of the way.

You consider for a minute if you should add this item to your vacation list. It's not exactly a vacation activity, but it is something you plan on spending your time on. Just to help you remember, and to make your list seem more impressive, you decided to add it in the end.

  1. Go to the dentist



It's a bit late for breakfast, but you're eager to get out and explore the city anyway. And it doesn't take you long to find something hot from a cart off the main street. As soon as you do, you duck down a smaller sideroad in order to escape the congested sidewalk.

Mm...it's a crunchy fried dough. You were a bit too late to get it fresh, but the seller was nice enough to dunk it in the hot oil again for you to warm it up. Ah--it's almost too hot to eat. And a bit greasy, and a little too browned...but at least it isn't cold.

You sip from a cup of cold barley tea to cool off your mouth. Feels nice.

You are impressed with how much greenery this New Town has scattered amongst the usual urban fixtures--the pavement is lined with trees, creating plenty of shade from the blazing summer sun. Monsters and humans alike are out walking this morning, enjoying the warm weather and running errands. At first you don't understand why it's not more empty on a weekday, but then you remember that Ebbot is a popular tourist destination now. And with all the new residents from underground...this is definitely not the same town you grew up in.

Though it's a beautiful morning, something is making you feel uneasy, as if there was something obvious missing from right in front of your nose.

Oh! Right, the book club!

It's going to start in just a few minutes, and the library is a bit far from here. You will inevitably be late...but you still want to try! Quickly you guzzle down your tea and stuff the rest of the dough stick in your mouth and start to run.

“HEY!!”

Suddenly, you hear a scary voice and someone grabs your arm, forcing you to stop!

The unexpected jolt causes you to gag on your food for a split second. You stare up with wide, fearful eyes at an angry skeleton monster. Judging by the crack bisecting his left eye socket, this isn’t his first violent encounter. 

“HEY YOU, DON'T BE SO CARELESS!! IF YOU DO THAT YOU MIGHT CHOKE!” He hisses at you.

“*hack* Uu--GYA--” You’re already choking, you try to say as you yank your arm back from his grasp.

“SEE?! EGADS, YOU'RE WORSE THAN SANS.”

You struggle to regain your bearings and glare at this skeleton. He isn't phased at all, focusing his piercing gaze directly back at you.

Up against an opponent like this, you can't help but falter momentarily before mustering up the courage to fire back.

“W-well, I --cough-- I would've been fine if you hadn't grabbed me! That’s what really made me choke!” You cough one final cough, for emphasis.

Even though your reproach was not very forceful, it still seems to carry some weight.

“WELL! IT'S--I--YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!” His face falls flat and you can see sweat beading on his forehead. What is with this guy? He was so stern at first, but now his confidence seems to be running out like water from a sieve.

Well good. You don't have time to pick a fight right now. But you still feel rattled at being grabbed.

As you start to run again, you call out to him over your shoulder and ask him to learn some manners. He doesn't try to reply to you this time--just stands there and watches you with a dumbfounded expression.

You realize as you continue to run that this was your first encounter with a monster. You can't say it went well. You can't even say you behaved yourself properly--it probably wasn't necessary to yell at him, even if he was in the wrong.

As you approach the book club, it occurs to you that you probably have not read the book they are discussing. Mom explains to you that the next book on the list is called: The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating.

That does not sound like a riveting book. Mom quickly reminds you that it wouldn’t hurt her feelings at all if you changed your mind.

Ah, whoops. you let your complete lack of interest show through in your face.

That wasn't on purpose. You're interested in this book club for non-book related reasons, anyway.

A monster with a soft voice and smiling eyes greets you warmly and invites you in to the meeting along with your mom. She’s flanked by another monster, similar in appearance. They introduce themselves both as “Toriel”.

You can see it in an instant. This may be a book club, but it is definitely a front for an empty-nesters club as well. No matter how kind they are, you still feel quite uncomfortable here. As if these monsters are already eager to adopt you as their own, though you don’t need adopting.

Suddenly it registers in your brain--

“Y-you two have the same name...?”

The gentler Toriel smiles and smoothes out her purple robe as she takes a seat.

“Yes, we do! Because, we are--that is--”

She shares a knowing grin with her creepier self, who bluntly states: “We're alternate selves.”

“Ah, that's such an unsettling term! I prefer sisters. But yes, yours is technically true.” The two Toriels share a chuckle at what you guess was some sort of a joke.

They must be able to see your confusion. Gentle Toriel frowns and asks, “Hm? Don't you know about the different worlds?” And suddenly it all makes sense.

“So...you’re from different worlds. What do you do, then, when someone calls out ‘Toriel!’ as you’re walking on the sidewalk together? Isn’t it confusing?”

Creepy Toriel blinks her pale yellow eyes at you. “Well, we both turn, obviously. It’s not that big of a deal.”

You look around the small meeting room for more Toriels but find none. You can, however, see a ghost. A giant bug. Another human. A clam.

You remember that your mom said there are currently four different worlds' worth of monsters on the island now. But before you get a chance to ask about more Toriels--

“Oh, my! Not again! Darling!”

A tall, very loud robot bursts into the room. He seems to be looking right at you.

“Uh--I--hi?” He is definitely talking to you, though you have no clue why.

He tosses his head, as if to fix his hair. But of course it's just metal, so it doesn't move.

“I just can't believe the levels you types will stoop to…” he whispers loudly. The words sound like something an angry person would say, but he looks nothing short of delighted. “Fine, fine, I'll allow it--just this once!”

Propping his leg up against the table by the door, he whips a book out of thin air and strikes a sultry pose.

..........You have no idea what’s going on.

Impatiently, he urges you to take his picture.

“...I...what?”

Mr. Robot gives you an exaggerated sigh before trying to communicate again, drawing out his words in a conspiratorial tone. “Ohhhh--of coourse, you're not heere for sneaking a photo of me.”

He leans in to whisper in your ear--”It's fine, really, I leaked it myself, just take the picture and scram.” He does sound slightly annoyed this time.

You decide that he must have mistaken you with someone else. Unwilling to play along, you try to explain. “Uh, wait. I'm just here to, uhm. Talk about snails.”

Upon hearing you say the word “snails,” his face darkens. It twists in horror in a way you wouldn’t expect metal to be capable of. And before you know what's happening, he turns around completely and bolts out the door.

You notice scary Toriel frowning at her phone as you turn back to the “sisters”.

“...It looks like our last, ah, sister won't make it today, I’m afraid.” Her disappointment is palpable.

Her gentle version knits her brow as well. “I think I'll run some pie over to her later...just as an excuse to catch up. It can be hard to get her to open the door without an excuse, you know?”

The other moms nod solemnly before starting the meeting.

It seems that last week's book was spearheaded by scary Toriel. She leads a spirited discussion about a book dealing with themes of crime, revenge, and justice. You aren’t familiar with this book at all, so you have nothing to do for much of the time but idly listen. But as they prepare to pass out and go over the book for this week, gentle Toriel takes the lead.

“Our next book is titled, 'The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating.' The library has graciously reserved these copies here that you are welcome to check out.” She clears her throat nervously before continuing. “So...who here has heard of this book before?”

The room is completely silent. Toriel appears to be a bit crestfallen.

“.....oh.........well...I have....” The ghost speaks up, but only barely. Their voice is just barely above a whisper and you have to strain to hear them.

“......it's a....guide to wild snail care.....” Their hesitancy is evident in their halting speech. You instantly want to give this ghost a hug, but they are clearly too incorporeal for that.

Toriel tries to be tactful in her reply. “Ah, well, no, actually. You must be mistaking it for another book.”

“....oh......sorry....” The ghost makes itself small and doesn't speak further. You almost thought they were about to cry, the poor dear.

“But that's just fine! It's really okay. If you find snails interesting, you will definitely like this book, too.” Her eagerness to reassure the ghost seems to prevent any tears.

Someone in the room coughs, but there is no further response. Toriel begins to sweat under the scrutiny of the group.

You decide to help her along by asking about the book, and she seizes upon your question quickly. “Ah--of course, I should really explain it, shouldn't I? Well. It's about...appreciating snails.”

The ghost nods approvingly, as everyone else in the room continues waiting to hear what else the book is about.

“A-and, ah--Well, it’s quite short, really. Basically, the author is left frail and largely confined to her bed after an illness. It is a difficult thing for her to endure...but she is able to adapt to her new life partly with the help of a companion snail.” Toriel pauses, smiling at the premise. “I found it to be a very sweet, simple read. I hope you will all enjoy it!”

It didn't sound so bad when she put it that way. Maybe you will read it after all. She went on to read the first few pages aloud, and after the meeting several people ended up checking out the book. So many that before you can get your hands on a copy, they are all gone.

Toriel notices your disappointment. “Oh, what a pity! Here. Why don't you borrow my copy?”

You are surprised that she would lend it to a practical stranger. “Oh! N-no, that's okay. Don't you need it to lead discussions?”

“Hm? Oh, actually, I have another copy at home, hee hee. If you're interested in the story, please take it! Just make sure to come back at the end of the week and return it to me at the next meeting.”

Ah, you understand now. She's recruiting for her book club. But you don't mind. You decide it would be fun to come back and be able to join in the discussion next time. So you take the book and stick around a little while to help tidy up the room and listen in on the mom gossip.

Your own mom is excited to hear what you thought of the group as you make your way to the exit together. It’s hard for you to put in words why, but you had been expecting something...different between monsters and humans.

She admits it wasn’t always like this. “Oh...that's right! There was a really popular event back then! Maybe they're doing it again this year--come on, let's go check!” Mom leads you to a bulletin board with flyers, ads, and posters, scanning through them all before exclaiming triumphantly-- “Found it! Why don't you take one of these?”

She hands you a small strip of paper with a phone number written on it. It says “Monster-Human Friendship Celebration!!!!!!!” on the other side.

“This event was really popular a couple years ago, when monsters first arrived.

I haven't heard much about anything happening with it this year, but--apparently it's still happening! You should volunteer to help them out with the event!”

“That sounds interesting...Thanks, mom!”

You further inspect the flyer as you leave the library and type out a message to the number. 

You get a response back within a minute.

“HELLO, HUMAN! SO GLAD YOU FOUND MY FLYER, AND OF COURSE I'D LOVE TO HAVE YOUR HELP! PLEASE NOTE THAT WE WILL BE HAVING PRACTICE EVERY MORNING AT 6:30 SHARP AT THE SCHOOL. PLEASE DRESS COMFORTABLY AND BE PREPARED TO SIGN A WAIVER. GO TO THE DESK IN FRONT OF THE TRACK TO CHECK IN, AND I'LL SEE YOU TOMORROW! JUST LOOK FOR THE HANDSOME SKELETON AND YOU’LL BE SURE TO FIND ME.”

“A waiver? What am I getting myself into…”

You pause to consider if you’ve already met this skeleton. For some reason, you think not. Their message comes off as much more friendly than one that would come from that scary guy. Either way, it seems like they will be expecting you. It would be rude to back out now.

You spend the next few hours taking your time to walk around the city. There are some busy streets that remind you of your home abroad, but for the most part this place doesn't feel very bustling. It isn't hard to find a back alley where people are hanging up laundry and kids are running in the street. It doesn't feel like the town you left...yet it also doesn't feel like the city you carved out a home for yourself in.

You like that about it. It's nice to have a little bit of both worlds.

As the day slips away, you realize that you completely missed lunch. The smell of a nearby restaurant awakens your angry stomach and alerts you to the fact that you have hardly eaten anything today.

It’s hard to tell exactly which restaurant you’re smelling, but the first place you find is monster-owned. You only know this because it's advertised heavily in the window, along with a delivery service called 'MY-town'. It also says 'Human food available!' on a sign in the door.

Huh...what other types of food are there? Do monsters eat special food?

Well, it does say that they serve human food. You want to go in to have a quick look, but hesitate at the door just long enough for someone to tear through the door and crash into you! They were running backwards out the door for some reason?! That's really dangerous!

The two of you are sent sprawling onto the pavement. Your head is reeling as you hear him complaining about the pain.

He jumps up immediately, his fall being broken by your entire body.

It’s another skeleton, much shorter than Mr. Cranky from this morning. You wonder what stars have aligned to cause you to have two uncomfortable run-ins in one day.

“WOAH, HEY, ARE YOU OKAY? THAT WAS COMPLETELY MY BAD!!”

He flashes you a sheepish grin and holds out a gloved hand, pulling you up to your feet. “FORGIVE ME? I'LL GIVE YOU A COUPON!”

You were pretty cheesed at his carelessness right up until he effortlessly endeared himself to you with a smile and a paper flyer. It was hard to stay mad at someone who was so cheerful, and willing to make up.

“S-sure, it was just an accident after all...no harm done. What kind of coupon do you have?”

The skeleton shoves a glossy paper into your hand with an even bigger smile plastered to his face. “GOOD FOR HALF-OFF ONE STANDARD DELIVERY! YOU WON'T REGRET IT!”

Your eyes move to a sack he is carrying, slung around one shoulder.

It's stuffed full of colorful flyers, all exactly like this one. You can clearly see them peeking out of the mouth of the bag.

“Hey....that's not a special coupon. It's the same thing you hand out to other people who you didn't bonk into!” You were kind of expecting something more generous than that, considering the circumstances.

When he sees that you aren’t satisfied, his smile vanishes, but only for a moment. A hollow, eerily polite smile takes its place and his hollow eye sockets pierce you as he articulately responds. “UNDERSTOOD! YOU DON'T WANT IT! ENJOY YOUR MEAL, THEN!”

“No, wait, I--!”

But he either doesn't hear you or he doesn't care. His outstretched hand pulls the flyer back in without missing a beat before he takes off down the street, and barrels out of earshot within just a few moments.

You immediately regret complaining, but it's too late now. Since you’re already here you go ahead and eat, accidentally ordering monster food. It was cheaper for some reason, and immensely refreshing. You feel immediately energized again after eating it.

In fact, you feel so energized that you’re able to stay up until a regular bedtime, completely defeating the jet lag that would otherwise have forced you to sleep before the sun even set. 

So much the better for you, since you have a full week ahead of yourself on this island full of monsters. You’re going to need all the sleep you can get.


	2. Sir, that's my emotional support stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet a post-Horrortale Papyrus

You are rudely awakened the next morning by a most obnoxious noise. It’s hard to place at first but--of course. It’s only your alarm. You fumble at your phone uselessly for a few seconds before figuring out how to silence it.

Displayed on your phone is a calendar alert that you must've set a while back. Oh yeah....that dentist appointment. You even had a reminder about it yesterday.

Well, whoops. You made plans to volunteer and you made plans to see the dentist. What should you do?

You decide not to cancel your dentist appointment, that would be really rude. You could probably just. Not show up to the event. Even though you already made it sound like you were going, it’s not like they’re absolutely counting on you, right?

You think about the dentist while you get yourself ready and wonder if you have any cavities this time. Ever since you broke your tooth trying to bite a jawbreaker when you were a kid, and had to get it pulled traumatically, you didn't particularly like going to the dentist.

It didn’t help that you had very unlucky teeth, always getting cavities and what not. It had taken you a long time to figure out how to tolerate the dentist's office. And that only caused more and more problems for you in the long-term. As you wake up more fully, and think about it some more--you realize that going to the dentist now is definitely the right choice to make. Even if it is a bit boring. And anxiety-inducing.

It's warm and sunny already, even this early in the morning, and the humidity makes your shirt stick to you within moments of leaving the apartment. Something like this would've bothered you a long time ago, but now it just reminds you of your childhood. It’s kind of nice, especially since you know you won’t be on this island for long.

You start to notice as you're walking that a lot of the monsters and humans you see walking around are extremely friendly. Some smile at you as they pass, and a few even wave at each other. It's something you didn't really notice before now. In the city you used to internally panic about what to do with your eyes when you passed people, but soon learned to just ignore everyone else.

However...Here, on Ebbot, if you came across another person outside it would be rude not to at least acknowledge them. Since this place was so much less crowded than the city, running into other people was not as common.

That's how it used to be, anyway. It seems that the custom hasn't changed, even as the population has exploded.

In a mood to challenge yourself, you try out your smile on an upcoming stranger--but fail to make a coherent friendly face. You also did it way too early, so now there is an awkward couple of moments as you walk towards each other.

Self-consciously, you try to pretend that that didn't happen. But the rabbit monster you tried to grin at smiles so sweetly while wishing you a good morning.

“M-morning! ..........That was hard.” You were a little slow on the uptake and aren’t even sure if they heard you return their greeting. For a moment you consider going back to your city-like indifference, but really you are too masochistically stubborn for that. Something about this feels important to you so you are not going to stop trying to make this fit!

It takes determination and a high embarrassment tolerance but you try your best to throw yourself out there and send out smiles to any willing strangers that you pass.

You try and fail and try again, but every time you do it, it gets easier. Even if you aren’t actually becoming more successful.

Thankfully, it isn't a terribly long walk to the dentist's office. It looks like a new building, with large glass windows facing the street. You step tentatively inside and are greeted briskly by a monster that has a mouth full of teeth for a face.

Normally, meeting someone who looks like this might be unsettling. But luckily you have warmed up your smile on the way here, and are able to greet them smoothly. As smoothly as you’re capable of, anyway.

They direct you to the waiting area, remarking that the dentist is running late but “should be there soon”. Yeah. You’ve heard that before. At least you don’t have anything else planned for today.

The waiting area is small, with only two rows of chairs along the walls. The smell of sterile gloves and clove oil pervades the air and you think to yourself that you actually kind of like that smell, even if you do hate sitting in the dentist’s chair.

No one else is here, and with slightly bare walls the room feels quite empty. It also happens to be a little bit too cold, especially when contrasted with the heat of the day outside. You pick a seat by the corner, and sit there in silence.

...........

Even though you're only here for a routine cleaning, you still feel a bit nervous.

You always worry like this...what will the dentist say? Will they be able to tell that you don't floss as often as you should? Will they scold you for it?

It's a silly thing to be worried about so you try to think about something else. But the worry is still there, a subtle tightening inside yourself.

After a few minutes, you remember that you have your headphones, and you can listen to something to help you relax. It helps. You allow yourself to be immersed in the world of your imagination, leaning back and closing your eyes to facilitate your daydreams.

After a few songs, you suddenly sense something move near you. You look up, expecting the dentist, and can hardly believe your eyes.

Sitting a few chairs down from you is another skeleton with a frightening face--tall, and hunching over a bit in their chair. They look very uncomfortable, repeatedly shifting their gaze about the room with beady little eye sockets quite unlike the others you have encountered.

You can’t stop staring at their mouth full of jagged and crooked.....and are they blood-stained?.....teeth. This person wouldn't look out of place in a horror movie; all they need to complete the look would be matching bloodstains on the plain but neat t-shirt and jeans they're wearing. A morbid fascination grips you even as you realize you will be caught staring if you don’t look away.

But there doesn’t seem to be much risk of that. They seem to be looking everywhere but at you. You feel pity for the poor thing. Some sort of dental emergency must be going on. The least you can do is be friendly...just like you were practicing on your way here. 

In the bravest way you can muster, you call out to them.

“Hi.”

“...............HI.”

His response is curt but not rude. It doesn’t invite further interaction and he even appears to be more uncomfortable than before. But then he's looking at you almost expectantly, and you second-guess your interpretation.

“D-dentist visits are the worst, eh?”

“A-ARE THEY?!” He looks alarmed now. Uh-oh, you’ve startled him.

“Well, I mean, not literally! But well, y'know, a lot of people don't enjoy it. Myself included...Ah, and, you kind of seemed like you weren't really enjoying it either.” You try to backtrack as much as possible, regretting that you had caused him alarm.

The skeleton takes a deep breath and seems to calm down.

“I...SEE. WELL. I GUESS I'M NOT ENJOYING IT, TO TELL THE TRUTH. ACTUALLY I'VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE.”

He pauses, then leans in closer, conspiratorially lowering his voice (though still managing to be quite loud). “UH, ACTUALLY, I PUT IT OFF FOR A LONG TIME.”

You squirm in the squeaky leather chair. “Yeah. I used to do that every time I needed to go to the dentist, too. I won’t tell anyone.”

……….You are unwilling to let the conversation die that quickly for some reason.

“So...good for you, that you're doing it now, right?”

The corners of his mouth turn up just a little. “OH. YEAH! THANKS.”

His gaze lingers on you, a worried smile on his face.

It looks like...he wants to keep talking to you. But he doesn't say anything, until eventually he looks away.

Suddenly you get an idea.

“Uhm, hey--you like music?”

Doesn't everyone like music? You kick yourself internally for blurting out something so dumb.

He looks at you blankly. You point your phone toward him, showing him what you're listening to, and offer him your headphones. Wordlessly, he seems to understand. He points at his head, which of course does not have ears.

“Ah--! Right, right, I--” Stupid, stupid, stupid. But there’s an easy way to fix this.

There's no one else here to bother, so you just unplug them and hold out the phone.

He...never actually answered you, if he liked music or not. At first he only stares at your phone, showing no reaction. But as the song goes on he does seem to soften and relax, just a little.  
When it ends you bring your phone back and, judging the operation to be not quite a failure, start to look up something else.

Suddenly, he speaks.

“HEY, WAIT--”

He grins sheepishly. “...CAN I PICK THE NEXT ONE?”

He pulls out his own phone and brings up a mellow, dream pop sounding song. At first he holds his phone out to you, the way you did for him. But halfway through the song he abruptly jumps up and takes the seat next to you, so that the two of you are now listening side by side.

His movement shocks you at first.

It feels surreal to be sitting so close to someone so...um...imposing.

...Slowly...

...You peek at him from the corner of your eye.

He's holding out his phone, awkwardly hovering it in the air between you. He keeps his gaze fixed firmly on the screen.

Out of curiosity, you turn your head slightly, to get a better look.

His teeth are even scarier and jankier up close. And something about his eye sockets also bothers you.

You can't bring yourself to look away, even though it makes you uncomfortable. You feel sorry for him. You imagine that a lot of people might avoid him because of the way he looks.

Truthfully...if you had met him in the city, well...you probably would have, too.

Suddenly his gaze shifts, and he’s looking straight into your eyes. Your heart drops down to your stomach as you realize you got caught just completely gawking at him.

His expression doesn't change from a blank stare as he watches this rudeness dawn on you all at once. You’re tripping all over your words, face burning hot, as you attempt to stammer out an apology.

“Oh--oh my gosh, I-I-I'm so sorry, I really--I shouldn't have, I-”

Slowly, a wry smile forms on his face, and he laughs almost imperceptibly as he moves his free hand to gently pat yours.

“HEH. EVERYONE LOOKS. I FORGIVE YOU.”

He grimaces slightly as he goes on. “AT FIRST I DIDN'T KNOW WHY. BUT IT'S THE TEETH, RIGHT?”

You are too embarrassed to do much more than nod in affirmation.

But it's not too late to make it right.

“H-hey. I won't stare anymore. You can't help it, I mean--I guess, that might be why you're even at the dentist's in the first place, so, I mean--”

He spares you from further exertion by interrupting you with a sigh. “.....EXACTLY. I COULD'VE COME HERE A LONG TIME AGO, REALLY. BUT THEY TOLD ME IT WOULD HURT, AND--”

Oh wow. Such a terrifying being, afraid of a little pinching. That's.....adorable.

“--WELL, IT WAS JUST BETTER TO WAIT, I THINK. I'M READY FOR IT NOW.”

Just then the door bursts open and the dentist runs in madly. Breathlessly, he calls out--”Eight! Eight minutes!! I'll take my first patient in eight minutes!!”

And with that he disappears into the exam room, just as suddenly as he had burst in.

You and the monster stare in silence at the door to his room as it slams behind him.

“HEY, I BET THAT'S ENOUGH TIME FOR US EACH TO PICK ANOTHER SONG!”

The cleaning goes off without a hitch. The dentist did ask you if you flossed daily, but thankfully he didn't make it a big deal when you said 'Sometimes.'

Well, you didn't really expect that he would. But there was always an underlying feeling of dread that someone might. You were terrified of messing up.

As you walk back through the door to the waiting room, you find the monster sitting directly in front of it. Facing it, watching it. His face brightens when he sees you walk out, and he jumps up to take his turn.

You attempt to say something cheerful as a way to encourage him. “Oh, I don't think you got called back yet, but it shouldn't be long. Good luck!” 

This appointment ran a little late. You would have liked to sleep in a little more, so it feels like now would be a good time to catch a little nap.

But as you turn to leave, the monster calls out to you.

“OH, NO, ACTUALLY I-”

He hesitates as you pause to look back at him.

He falters, before picking up courage again to speak up.

“I WAS ACTUALLY, GOING TO ASK YOU FOR A FAVOR…”

“Oh? Uh, sure. What is it?”

“W-WELL, AH...NO, SORRY, I JUST REALIZED--IT'S, TOO MUCH TO ASK…”

You frown. “Wait, you can ask. I'll just say no if I want to.”

...........There is an awkward pause. He can’t back out now that he’s already said something out loud. So he continues.

“WILL YOU STAY WITH ME?”

You’re not sure you understand. “You want me to...stay with you while you see the dentist?”

“YEAH. SORRY.”

You can't possibly refuse him. He’s trying so hard. He came all this way, and...your nap will just have to wait.

“No, of course. It's okay. Are you nervous, is that it?”

“..............YEAH.”

“It's gonna be fine. I'll stay with you.” You don’t really know what else you can say.

He sits back down immediately, looking intently at the door. Then suddenly he looks back to you again. “THANK YOU. I ALMOST FORGOT TO THANK YOU! I REALLY APPRECIATE IT.”

You take a seat next to him and slouch back far. The chair isn't comfy but you might fall asleep anyway. This guy doesn’t seem too chatty now so maybe you could manage it.

Suddenly you realize you forgot to introduce yourself. He doesn’t hear you at first, but he understands after you repeat yourself.

”I’M...PAPYRUS…”

He looks to be searching for more words, but almost immediately the door slams open and the dentist calls out for him.

The dentist eyes you with surprise as you get up too. He asks you if something is wrong.

“No no, I'm just with him.”

“Oh! Please feel free to just wait out here.” He doesn’t catch on to Papyrus’s panic as he takes a good, long, look at the skeleton’s mouth. “I can't say how long this will take, but--”

“C...CAN'T MY FRIEND COME WITH ME?” Papyrus blurts out in a sweat.

A simple act of kindness was all it took for this person to regard you as their friend. You envy the simplicity of that perspective, though you don't disagree with the sentiment.

Surprised, the dentist nods. He looks at Papyrus, and then at you. It dawns on him.

“Oh, of course--come on in, both of you. I see, yeah, of course you can bring a friend in. It's not that uncommon, really.” Reassuringly, he ushers the two of you back into the exam room and motions for Papyrus to sit in the dentist's chair.

“Open wide now--”

The dentist fascinates over papyrus's gaping maw, poking and prodding here and there. Papyrus doesn't know where to put his eyes so they dart around nervously.

You step over and wave to get his attention, then close your eyes slowly and smile.  
He takes the hint and closes his eyes, too. It's hard to tell if it helped, but you hope it did.

“So, Papyrus, do you brush?”

“Y...YEAH.”

“Floss?”

“WELL, NOT REALLY, I--”

The dentist yanks sharply and Papyrus yelps. A broken piece of dental floss is in his hands. “I DID GIVE IT A GO THIS MORNING, THOUGH…” The dentist grimaces. “Yes, I can see. But it's no problem.”

He goes back to examining and Papyrus looks over to you before closing his eyes again.  
He startles and his hand shoots out in front of him when the dentist begins to scrape against his teeth with a metal instrument.

He isn't able to handle this well, and you can see now why he may have wanted support. Quickly, you move to his side and hold your hands out. He latches onto them with a death grip. Underneath the cool leather of his gloves you can feel the blunt edges of bones; your hands soon warm them but his grip is painful. Gently you squeeze back and he seems to understand, loosening up a little though it is still uncomfortable.

He's flinching with every movement the dentist makes against his teeth, and it's impossible not to feel sorry for him.

Finally, the dentist finishes the cleaning and steps back, pulling off his surgical mask.

“Well, Papyrus. I'd like to ask you a few questions. Do your teeth cause you pain?”

Opening his eyes, Papyrus responds with a sharp release of air. “HAH! NO, NONE.”

“That's good, great to hear you're not experiencing pain. Are they particularly sensitive, when you eat hot or cold foods or maybe when you bite down?”

“NO, NEVER.”

“Excellent. Well, as far as the health of your teeth go, they're not too bad. Seems like there isn't any tissue to be affected, anyway…” He scratches his head, as if trying to make sense of the situation.

“Do you eat a lot of human food? Because even though you didn't have any caries, there was still a lot of plaque. Monster food doesn't do that, y'know. I'll show you the proper way to brush and floss in a bit. That way you can take better care of your teeth from day to day.”

The dentist hesitates.

“Um. Did you have any other concerns, then?”

He's trying not to bring up the train wreck that is Papyrus's smile. Bless his heart.

Papyrus nods desperately.

“MY HIDEOUS TEETH. I'D LIKE TO MAKE THEM NORMAL AGAIN, PLEASE.”

“Ah, I see. Um...I supposed you might.” The dentist looks away uncomfortably. “The truth is, I'm not really sure what to do for you.”

“......” Papyrus looks immensely disappointed. He came here expecting a miracle.

Trying to explain himself, the dentist begins sifting through some papers on his desk. “Y'see, stuff like this--” he thumbs through a pile papers and flyers before pulling out a diagram of a set of braces.

“--Stuff like this works for most people because their teeth are held in place by gum tissue. For someone like you....For a skeleton monster, specifically…” He frowns and gestures to Papyrus’s mouth. “It's unclear whether these will even have any effect on you. It relies on the gum and jawbone tissues to break down and rebuild themselves according to external stimuli.”

At the sight of Papyrus’s dejected expression, the dentist tries to walk it back just a little.

“I mean, we could try it, if you want. But it might just be a waste of your time.........We could definitely whiten your teeth, though!”

Papyrus likes this idea. “OH! THAT SOUNDS GREAT.” But his hopeful expression is soon crushed again as the dentist continues. “...You probably won't be able to ever have a smile like this, though--”

He points to the flyer for teeth whitening, with a woman flashing a perfect, bright smile at a camera.

“--Unless you were interested in getting a full set of implants.”

“HMM. WHAT'S THAT PROCESS LIKE?”

“It'd take quite a few visits. We'd need to get a model made of your jaw, remove all your teeth, put you in surgery--”

“YOU KNOW--I DON'T THINK I LIKE THE SOUND OF THAT.”

“It's definitely an involved process. It's your choice if you want to--”

“HOW ABOUT YOU JUST GRIND THEM ALL DOWN?”

“............Huh?” The dentist looks like he can’t believe his own ears.

Papyrus is gaining hope again now. “COULD YOU DO THAT? JUST LIKE, GRIND THEM ALL DOWN TO THE SAME LENGTH? OBVIOUSLY, THE LONGER THE BETTER, BUT--SOME OF THEM BROKE OFF REALLY SHORT.”

“Well. Um.” The dentist scratches his head nervously. Papyrus won’t let go of his hopeful grin.

“Normally, I would say absolutely not.” There goes his smile.

“But for someone like you, who may not be capable of accumulating decay...Well, it would affect the integrity of the tooth, that's for sure.”

Papyrus is more than willing to cling to this thread of hope. “I'LL BE CAREFUL WITH THEM. AND IF THEY BREAK, I CAN JUST GET THE IMPLANTS ANYWAY, RIGHT?”

“I...I guess so. Well, sure. I think it's worth a try.” He considers. “......I'll need you to sign some waivers, though.”

The sound of the grinder on Papyrus's teeth is worse than nails on a chalkboard. And the dust that wafts from his mouth and fills the air makes you feel ill. It reminds you of all your uncomfortable memories of having your teeth drilled into for fillings.

You really were expecting Papyrus to freak out after the way he behaved during the cleaning, but this time he just keeps his eyes shut tight.

At one point he clenches his fists together.

You want to place your hand over his, but aren't sure if that's really necessary. He really seems to be doing a lot better.

Back on the street, Papyrus is ecstatic. And understandably so.

“WELL--HOW'S IT LOOK?” He grins down at you proudly.

“It looks completely different. A lot better, for sure.” You don’t know how to be anything other than honest.

He takes no offense and looks absolutely gleeful. “THANK YOU. SO MUCH. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO, I JUST...THANK YOU. THANK YOU!”

He snaps his jaw shut in a huge smile. “LOOK! I CAN EVEN CLOSE MY MOUTH PROPERLY NOW!! …...IT'S BEEN A REALLY LONG TIME SINCE I COULD DO THAT.”

His joy is contagious, and you can't help smile, too.

“Well congratulations! You look great.”

“HEH, THANKS. I FEEL A LOT BETTER, ALREADY!”

You're supposed to be turning down the street just ahead. And Papyrus looks like he is about to turn the other way.

But...you know....it really felt good, that he called you his friend earlier.

You don't know how many more chances you are going to get to make a friend so smoothly........You were never able to do that before.  
You can't deny it--you really want to keep in touch with him, but you don't know how, or if you should even ask.

At the last minute, you decide to be brave--

“Hey. Um, Papyrus. You mentioned to the dentist...that we were friends. So, do you want to, I dunno, hang out sometime? For dinner, or something?”

“.......”

He looks completely blind-sided.

Finally, he manages to answer, after considering his words carefully.

“I DO. BUT, THERE'S ONE PROBLEM.......I CAN'T GO WITHOUT MY BROTHER. SORRY.”

He looks down, as if he expects you to reject that addition.

“Well, okay. Would you both like to come and have a dinner party with me?”

“AH--REALLY?” The surprise on his face tells you that this is not his usual interaction with strangers.

“YOU'RE INVITING US BOTH OVER FOR DINNER...WOW! OF COURSE WE'LL ACCEPT!”

His surprise gives way to glee as he realizes you are being serious.

“YEAH, I REALLY WANT TO GO! YOU MEAN TONIGHT?”

Well, that's a bit short-notice. But it's not like you have other plans, so…

“Um, well, sure! I can do tonight.”

“GREAT! AH--”

It's less awkward now to swap numbers as you approach the intersection. You feel so happy that you spoke up in the first place as you turn back towards home.

Although earlier you were planning to go home and take a nap, you don't feel very tired anymore.

You have to plan something for dinner tonight, then go shopping, and then cook, and--  
It's going to have to be something really, really, simple.

Hmmmm....spaghetti? Spaghetti is one of those things that you can just throw together with a box of noodles, a bag of frozen meatballs, and a can of sauce. Add in a head of steamed broccoli and some crusty bread and you have yourself a complete meal.

You remembered seeing a grocery store somewhere down the street from your apartment, but unfortunately...

"Aw, they're not open yet." You frown as you see the “CLOSED” sign from down the street.

Your mild disappointment deteriorates into great annoyance as you stand at the window of the store. ".......What the--they don't even open until noon?! How can they call themselves a convenience store. There's nothing convenient about that at all." Though your inconvenience is but minor, you can hardly believe the gall.

A low voice suddenly drawls out from behind you. "'s pretty convenient for me."

You whirl around to find a skeleton, short and squat. He smoothly waves you to the side as he approaches the storefront. "s'cuse."

As you step out of his path, he pulls out a keyring overflowing with keys of all shapes and sizes and begins to unlock the door.

He doesn’t take his eyes off his task as he continues. "i'm only here to fetch something, so you can just run along. come back at noon, if you want. here--"

He digs around in his jacket pocket and pulls out a shopper ad.

"got a lot of nice things on sale, in case you're interested."

"Oh--thanks." You check out the flyer as you turn back towards home. There isn't really anything you need for tonight, but if you're really going to be here for a whole month you might want to pick up a few things eventually.

At home, you take inventory of the kitchen utensils available to you. Unfortunately, there isn’t much. Until now you hadn't realized just how sparsely the kitchen was outfitted.

Even though there is an oven with a stovetop, a microwave, and plenty of cabinet space, all you can find to cook with is a weathered old pot, a few metal dishes, two plastic cups, and just a few pairs of silverware.

"This is...less than ideal. There's not even enough cups for three people, or anything to use in the microwave, for that matter."

You'll have to add some kitchenware to your list if this is really going to happen. Too bad you didn't see anything like that in the sales flyer....it looks like you might just have to cancel.  
The thought of cancelling on Papyrus makes you feel sad. He might take it the wrong way...it was a mistake to agree to a dinner as early as tonight!

There’s only one thing you can do now, to make sure dinner happens.

You need to call your mom.


	3. Papyrus has fallen for you and he can't get up

Mom agreed to give you a lift to the supermarket--on one condition. She first wants to hear about your vacation so far over lunch. It isn’t a difficult condition to meet, though it’s barely been a full day since you last met. As a result, your awkward encounter of the morning is just about the only thing that seems worth mentioning.

Mom is surprised that you’re spending your vacation time at the dentist in the first place. "How very practical of you! Though that's a....bit of an odd place to strike up a friendship."

You take a moment to bite into your lunch and chew it thoughtfully. “It was definitely unusual. I even ended up inviting him over for dinner."

Mom’s eyebrows jump up in amused surprise. "Oh! Him?"

You can see what she is thinking but refuse to acknowledge it. This dinner is not a date.

"Yeah, well, y'know. I've been interested in getting to know monsters. So I thought I'd say hi, and--y'know, complain about being at the dentist a little." You try not to sound cagey. You fail.

The wheels in mom’s mind are turning. "And he’s a monster! Well, what's he like? He must've been really friendly, right? If you made friends so easily."

Eager to change the subject though you are, you find yourself briefly contemplating the morning’s events before moving on. "Honestly, he seemed a bit more....pitiful, than friendly. But--"

A lightbulb goes off over Mom’s head and she suddenly latches on to the subject before you can angle it away. “Wait! Pitiful? At the dentist...Hm.....what does he look like?"

"Uh, he's a really tall skeleton, and--"

Mom jumps up, slamming her hands down on the table. "Does he have big scary teeth?!" You cringe and look around apologetically at your fellow diners. "Y-yeah, he…did."

Uh oh. Why does mom know this person? Is he....infamous?

But mom doesn’t look upset. She just looks really excited. “Bea, I think I know this person!!"

"You do?"

"Yes! It was Papyrus, right? Right?"

"Yeah! Wow...okay, that's kind of cool. What a coincidence that I ran into one of your friends."

Mom waves off your relief nonchalantly. "Oh, well, we're not really friends. I've never actually met him."

"Oh."

She tries to clarify. "But I know him. As in, I know who he is."

"Okay..." It isn’t reassuring. You think back to those teeth he got rid of...those couldn’t really have been bloodstains, right?

Mom quickly tries to backpedal. "No, it's not bad! He didn't do anything. I mean, that's not--" She frowns. "Toriel told me about him, and his brother, and...well, actually, I think they're kind of our neighbors..."

You knit your brow in confusion. "How do you only 'think' that instead of 'know' that?....And how can someone only 'kind of' be your neighbor?"

"Because! I've seen them coming and going! And 'neighbor' is an iffy term way out in the sticks."

You take a moment to process this information with a swig of water.

"I'm glad y'all are going on a date," mom offers cheerfully. You nearly choke.

"Wha--it's not a date! His brother's coming, too!" This news only elates your mom further. "Oh! Hey! In that case, let me help you with dinner!"

"Uh--"

"Toriel begged me to befriend them, if I ever met them. But I just...haven't been able to manage it! I don't actually know where they live, and I scared Papyrus away once when I ran out into the yard after catching sight of him walking past..."

"Oh my..." You want to put your face in your hands, but consider that it may be a bit rude. Meanwhile, mom continues pushing for her involvement. "Well, it wouldn't be too awkward, right? I mean, you just said it wasn't a date. If Sans was going to be there, anyway..."

"Sans...is that his brother?" As much as you hate this conversation, you were still curious.

"Yeah. Toriel really cares about those two. You haven't met her, yet. She came from the same place as they did." Mom shakes her head sadly. "But this Toriel is...extremely sad. We all care about her, but it's really difficult to get her to leave the house. That’s part of the reason we started the book club, although lately..." She cuts herself off. "Anyway! I really want to check in on them. For her sake. So, please?"

"...Ah--" You hesitate. It’s already going to be awkward enough.

"When were you going to have it?" If you tell her, she’ll probably offer to take care of the meal. It’ll save you a lot of effort.

This dinner...it really wasn't a date, after all. You were never questioning that. It just felt extremely awkward that your mom already knew so much about these two. And you wondered....if they might be uncomfortable with that.

You try to imagine what it would be like, to have dinner with a stranger and their parents...who already knew your name...and life story.....

............

You aren't able to conjure up anything that feels pleasant.

"Hey, don't cringe like that! Are you worried I'll embarrass you?"

“It’s...not that. Look, we were going to have the meal tonight. Wouldn’t that be too last-minute for you?”

Mom insists it would not, just as you expected she would. She does warn you that she and dad have somewhere to be after dinner, but you actually think this is preferable. Now there’s no chance it can drag on forever, so you go ahead and relent. It’s not like you can pull off dinner by yourself like this anyway.

However. It’s now your turn to set some conditions of your own. "You have to let me introduce you normally."

"Of course."

"Don't go talking to them about...stuff you already know about them. I'm dying of embarrassment just thinking about how it might feel to be infamous."

Mom pauses. "Ah. Yeah, you're probably right...I'll be careful."

And one last thing. “I know you love doing elaborate meals, but let’s not get carried away here. I really think we should just keep it simple." You think back to the idea you had before. "Maybe we could just do something like.....a spaghetti dinner. Nothing too complicated. But still something nice."

Mom quickly tosses that condition to the side. "I hate to contradict you, but that is one thing I must insist on.” She grins. "This meal is going to be gargantuan."

"But we don't have time to stress over that! It's super last-minute and we haven't even gone shopping!"

Mom’s eyes widen with earnestness as she holds her ground. "No, no--you don't understand--it has nothing to do with me. We. Must. Make. ALL THE FOOD."  
This is just unreasonable! "Why!?"

She refuses to give a relevant explanation. "It's just necessary. That's all. It can't be helped or explained."

"......."

You give in, though you can’t understand her vague explanation. You end up following her to the market and helping her find all the ingredients while letting her plan everything.

You had not invited Papyrus over for a date. But you still felt disappointed that this little dinner party was now in your mom's hands rather than yours. Unfortunately, it was just way too easy to step back and let her take care of it at this point. You had planned poorly for this...which is to say, you hadn’t planned at all.

By the time you get back to your parents’ kitchen, your brilliantly simple spaghetti plan has long since been eschewed entirely in favor of a menu more extensive than you would ever have planned by yourself.

You try to think of this as a good thing. A well-prepared homemade meal is definitely something to look forward to. And it’s nice to spend some time working in the kitchen together with your mom. It brings up some fun memories of when you were a kid and she would let you do simple tasks to help her cook. It’s funny how grown-up and validated you still feel now by being able to actually work side-by-side.

Eventually, there isn't much left to do other than wait for things to finish so you sit yourself down on the couch. Most of the dishes were fine to simmer on the stove or finish in the oven, and you take a minute to compliment your mom on her menu planning. Though, really--it would have been perfectly fine to cut out at least half of what you guys ended up making. They are only two guests, so you are at a loss as to why she was so insistent that you make this much food.

You want to try and get a more specific answer from her about why she refused to budge on it, but your body is getting more and more tired by the second. You recognize this as jet lag and do your best to fight it, but Mom insists that you can sleep right where you are--she’ll take care of what’s left.

You check your phone hesitantly, expecting it to be nearly time for dinner. As it turns out, you guys had made great time and there is plenty of time left over for napping.

"Well--is it really okay? I did set a timer for the bread, and the soup should be good to just stay simmering for a while."

Mom waves her hand at you as if she is shooing your polite uncertainty away. “Go rest yourself! There's nothing to do right now besides wait, anyway. I'm going to go relax, myself, and read a chapter in that book about snails.

Ah, you forgot all about that book. You make a mental note to pick it up later on, before setting a wake-up alarm on your phone.

The couch is cozy--well-worn, and soft. It's definitely not a newer model; this is the same sofa you always used to curl up on before you left home. It still feels just right for a catnap. You settle into your old favorite spot, sinking in in just the same way you remember you always used to, and in no time your eyelids are too heavy to hold open any longer.

You fall asleep with your phone clutched to your chest. It would be a shame if you missed your alarm.

* * *

Papyrus had been elated at your invitation. Even when you had told him your parents would be there. The more people were there, the more potential he had to make friends!

It would have been silly to want to have dinner alone with you, after all! That wasn’t possible, anyway, since Sans was coming! So! The more the merrier!

He prepared the tastiest pasta he knew how, because he supposed that most people liked pasta. And after dedicating so much time above-ground to learning how to cook properly, he actually felt confident in his abilities. Though it was hard to tell for sure when Sans was his only test subject.

“mm. good.” The same thing he always said. If Papyrus wanted a more detailed assessment of his skills, he was going to have to do it himself.

He sampled it, then congratulated himself on a pasta well-done as he packed it away in a sturdy bag, ready to go.

But the second it was time to step out the door, he began having second thoughts.

Maybe it was true that he had the potential to end this night with three new friends. But there was also the potential that it could all blow up in his face. If it did, he would end up with zero new friends at the end of the day. The same number he had ended every single stupid day up here with.

“got the food?”

“YES.”

“i’ve got the key. let’s get.”

“RIGHT.” Papyrus hesitated at the entrance to their home, blocking the way. Sans raised a brow bone at him.

“...you’re not leaving.”

“I’M NOT. I’M JUST...UH. THINKING.”

“you’re thinking.”

“UH-HUH.”

“think on the way. unless you wanna be late? i dunno, it’s your date.”

Papyrus hissed at his brother not to say careless things like that as he quickly stepped outside, shouldering the bag of food. It wasn’t a date; what a stupid thing to say. He didn’t even want it to be a date. This was just a chance to make friends, right?

This morning, someone had accepted him, even if it was only superficially. That person had gone out of their way to help him. And then that same person had made it clear that they wanted to spend more time with him by inviting him over. That was enough, it was more than enough! He wasn’t some creep who fell in love with people just because they were the only ones who were nice to him!

He was too busy refusing to acknowledge his reasons for wanting to be near you to remember that what he was actually afraid of was your parents hating him. He remembered this, however, at the sight of their home.

His soul sank. "OH NO."

Sans was ready for this. "what's wrong? you can't back out now."

"NO, I--I KNOW THIS HOUSE...CRAP...” He scanned the yard for evidence this was really the house he thought it was. “SOME LADY ONCE CHASED ME OFF HER PROPERTY HERE,” he finally admitted.

"...why were you on her property?"

Papyrus defends himself vehemently. "I WASN'T--I WAS JUST WALKING BY! BUT SHE, SHE CAME OUT OF THE HOUSE, WAVING HER ARMS AT ME AND SHOUTING!"

He shudders at the memory as Sans pats him on the back. "....IT WAS NERVE WRACKING."

Sans thinks for a moment. "maybe we got the wrong address?"

Papyrus shakes his head. “I COPIED IT DIRECTLY FROM THE TEXT. BUT...I’LL DOUBLE-CHECK WITH OUR HOST.” Unfortunately, his call goes unanswered.

The lights in the simple little house were all on and it looked very inviting. The only way to find out if this was really the right house now was to knock on the door.

But if it was the wrong house...well...

Sans frowned. "you're gonna have to knock, bro."

Papyrus took a nervous step back. "....I DON'T WANT TO! WHY DON'T YOU KNOCK IF YOU'RE SO SURE EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE?!"

"i look like more of a threat than you now. you can at least pass as a normal monster with teeth like that."

Papyrus couldn’t resist smiling for a moment at his flattery. "TCH...WHATEVER."

It was true With all the stained and jagged edges of his teeth removed, Papyrus indeed looked very different. A lot more presentable, he felt.

Just this morning, he had mustered up every bit of courage he had in the world, and even borrowed some from a stranger, in order to make that possible. And, almost instantly afterwards, that same stranger had granted one of his dearest wishes.

You'd think it was an exciting, intoxicating, enjoyable thing to experience. But you'd be wrong.

Having his teeth look nicer did feel very, very good. There wasn't much more to say about that. But getting the chance to make a new friend...well, that was infinitely more terrifying than continuing on with life as usual. It was terrifying to think that he could lose that chance just as easily as it had fallen into his lap.

So, for that reason...Papyrus was feeling a bit anxious tonight. The last thing, the very last thing that he wanted to experience was being yelled at and shooed away. But if he never knocked on that door, he would miss this chance for sure.

".......FINE. I'LL DO IT."

He knocks, hesitantly at first. After a few moments he knocks again.

No response.

".............."

"...........hey. it smells like food out here."

Papyrus could smell it, too. It smelled really good. Like something was breaded and fried.

"knock again. it smells dang good." Sans was no longer here for altruistic reasons.

This time, they could hear the muffled voice coming from inside. Sans thought that it had said, “Come on in!”

".......NO. NO WAY WE CAN JUST LET OURSELVES IN. WE DON'T EVEN--WHAT IF THIS ISN'T THE RIGHT HOUSE?!"

"how could someone give you the wrong address for their own house?"

"IT'S A SIMPLE MISTAKE! MAYBE A TYPO! IT COULD HAPPEN!"

"c'mon, you're just grasping at straws. let's poke in.....it won't take us long to figure out if we're in the wrong place..."

Papyrus couldn't believe he was going along with this--he couldn't believe that Sans was encouraging it! The smell of the dinner must have been affecting them both.

Slowly, delicately, he turned the doorknob....Carefully, haltingly, he leaned in through the frame....

"....H..HELLO?"

"OH."

Immediately he understood why you hadn't answered his calls, or even answered the door.

You were lying there, asleep, on the couch.

Should he wake you? Awkwardly he stood there by the door, hoping you would wake up on your own. You looked....really cute, lying there. Drooling in your sleep. There wasn't even a blanket over you. How could you sleep like that? You must have been really tired.

Sans, eager to smell more of the food, peered around Papyrus’s lanky frame.

"oh, is that them?"

".....YEAH."

"........." Sans looked at Papyrus. He looked at you.

“you like 'em, don’t you?"

Papyrus couldn’t control the flush in his face that gave his feelings away. "DON'T. THAT'S NOT WHAT THIS IS."

How could that possibly be what this is?

All you did was offer him a one-time small act of kindness. Or, well, maybe it was two. Either way. He knew better than to expect more from that kindness than anything that wasn't platonic and mildly disinterested.

Those feelings...if he did have them...would be being locked away in a prison cell even as he spoke.

Sans didn’t see anything wrong with it, however. "you should go for it, bro. kid invited you over for dinner and everything."

Papyrus desperately tried to quell his burning face, holding the back of his leather-gloved hand to his cheekbones. "QUIT IT."

"i'm not making fun! i'm being serious. go for it."

"THEY WERE JUST BEING NICE! DON'T OVERTHINK IT."

"so are you saying you don't like 'em?"

"NO. SHUT UP!! I BARELY EVEN KNOW THIS PERSON. WE ONLY JUST MET THIS MORNING!"

"i mean, they're pretty cute. and you've got nothing to lose."

"I HAVE EVERYTHING TO LOSE! THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I...YOU KNOW, NEVERMIND, IT DOESN'T MATTER."

He was trying to keep his voice down, but it's difficult when you're agitated. And even more so when you are Papyrus. You began to stir on the couch as he fussed, filled with confusion upon awakening. Papyrus is mortified when he sees you sit up. How much of that did you hear?

You stare at them for a minute, trying to make sense of being awake. Trying to make sense of their conversation.

"Um......wait....I know you. Papyrus?"

Suddenly, you realize what just happened. "Oh...I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to sleep for more than a few minutes. I'm surprised my alarm didn't--"

When you glance at your phone, you notice that there are a ton of missed calls.

Papyrus attempts to wave off your repeated apologies. "NO, NO, IT’S FINE! I WAS JUST A LITTLE CONFUSED ABOUT THE ADDRESS."

Your head is still really fuzzy from such a poorly-timed nap. You look from one brother to the other, trying not to stare at the gaping hole in Sans’s skull that begins at his eye socket and engulfs a huge chunk of his face. "So...is this..."

Papyrus grins at you, showing off his smooth new smile as he introduces Sans, who seems greatly impressed by the smell of your house.

You bring them straight to the kitchen, thinking it would be a good idea to sit and relax around the table. Even more so in here, the air was filled with the delightful smells of a home cooked meal. A pot on the stove was full of bubbling oil, and the delicious smell of breaded meat frying pervaded the room.

A lot has been taken care of since you fell asleep. "Oh...wow, it looks like almost everything is done! Besides the cutlets. I guess that means dad is home, too......Though I don't see anyone in here. Hello?"

You turn around to look back towards the living room and catch sight of Papyrus and Sans.

They look absolutely spellbound.

"Uh...hey, is something wrong?"

Sans jumps, as if your words have startled him out of some deep reverie. ".......wrong? uh--"  
He gives his head a wake-up shake and looks at you cautiously. "nothing's wrong at all.....it just...it really--" He falters.

Papyrus steps in, dabbing at his face with a small cloth. "I THINK HE'S TRYING TO SAY, IT SMELLS REALLY GOOD IN HERE." He's...sure sweating a lot. They both are.

"Are...y'all okay? Are you hungry or something?"

"yeah." "WELL...YEAH." Their sheepish looks still make you wonder if something is wrong.

Suddenly dad steps in from the other room. You notice a bandage wrapped around his wrist and he waves you off when you ask about it.

"Ah, it’s nothing. Nothing! Just popped myself a bit while I was frying...here, I'm not quite done with the cutlets, so--"

He grinned over at the brothers while getting ready to drop another cutlet in the oil. You guessed that he knew everything about these two that mom did by the sheer awkwardness of it all, but did your best to get everyone introduced properly anyway.

After a brief pause, Papyrus clears his throat nervously.

"HEY, IF, UH, IF THE OIL IS BURNING YOU, MAYBE I COULD GIVE IT A SHOT? I MEAN...I CAN'T BE BURNED ANYWAY, SO..."

Dad insists there’s no need. He welcomes the three of you to take a seat and wait for the meal to be ready. “Mom fell asleep reading at her desk, though. I’d hate to wake her when she’s been working so hard. Is it okay if we wait a little while--just a few minutes? Or should we get started right away?”

You move to pull out a chair but quickly notice that the brothers seem uncomfortable. They're looking intently at the food and shuffling their feet. They must be really, really hungry.

Papyrus grins nervously. "W-WELL, WE DON'T MIND WAITING--" "Sans shoots Papyrus an impatient look, and Papyrus proddingly elbows him back. "WELL, WE DON'T!"

"....guess we don't."

This isn’t right. They look absolutely famished. You are about to suggest waking mom after all when Papyrus makes a snapping motion with his fingers and begins to open up the bag slung on his shoulder.

“I ALMOST FORGOT! WE BROUGHT SOMETHING FOR THE TABLE, TOO.” He presents you with a small casserole dish and grins broadly. "THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR INVITING US! I MADE PASTA." You set the dish on the table. It’s still warm, and you lift the plastic lid just a little to let the comforting scent of cream sauce escape.

Dad sets a timer and says he’ll wake mom up soon. It really won’t be too long before the dinner is able to begin, but it almost seems as if it would be torture to make these guys sit around the table and stare at food they can't eat. They're already getting fidgety again and it kind of makes you worry about them.

You decide that they need something to distract them while they wait for the meal as you notice Papyrus straining to put on a smile. “Hey...how about we bring an appetizer back into the living room? Maybe we can distract ourselves for a minute with some cards."

It occurs to you that things may be even better if they have something to munch. You look in the fridge and are pleased to find a nearly-finished jar of homemade kimchi. Instantly you grab it--this is what you want to eat the most. There is exactly enough left to serve up as an appetizer, so you dump out the jar and make a quick arrangement of kimchi, pickled radishes, and fresh cucumber slices. A package of spicy peanuts on the side completes the appetizer.

Sans’s eye sockets widen when you set the plate down at the card table. "that stuff smells impressive." Papyrus points at his brother sternly. "HEY, DON'T BE RUDE! .....IT SMELLS FINE." You hear doubt in his voice.

By the time you have successfully fetched a deck of cards from the drawer, the nicely arranged plate of kimchi and pickles is empty. Even the spicy peanuts are gone.

Sans belches softly and you deny yourself the mental space to contemplate how. "rad pickles."

Papyrus speaks through a facepalm before sheepishly looking up at you. “SANS. UGH, DON'T BE SO CRASS. IT'S EMBARRASSING!........ACTUALLY, I--I CAN'T COMMENT ON THE FLAVOR...WELL--"

You shrug. "It's okay, not everyone likes it."

"NO! I'M SURE THEY REALLY WERE RAD!" He glares at Sans. "I JUST DIDN'T MANAGE TO SNAG ANY."

Sans slumps slightly, embarrassed at being tattled on. "...for what it’s worth, i’m really sorry. i didn’t do it on purpose."

".....Why don't we get started with a card game? Do you guys know how to play Fight the Landlord?”

Papyrus seems enthusiastic to learn, and Sans isn't objecting, so you start to explain the rules.

This card game has a premise, actually. It's an old game about a couple of peasants trying to pay off their debt to their landlord. Two players play as the 'peasants', and the third player as the 'landlord'. Victory is achieved by shedding every card in your hand, and the victory of one 'peasant' is a victory for them both.

It takes you a little while to explain the rules associated with shedding cards. It's very particular, but it isn't hard to learn. You easily win two rounds in a row, though you can see them both getting the hang of it by the end. Before you can start a third round, everyone is summoned to the dinner table. Mom has woken up and is now waiting in her seat. "Come on, it would be a waste if it went cold!"

You remember all the snacks you served before the meal and worry. This might be a giant waste either way, if your guests aren't even hungry. The table is completely packed full of dishes, and this all seems just a bit outlandish to you. Why was all this food necessary? A giant waste, if it went cold? Wouldn't it be a giant waste if only about half of it could even get eaten?

But before you can open your mouth to say anything about it, Sans cries out:

"hey! are those little meat pies??" He stares at the dishes on the table in absolute wonder, reveling in the cuteness of tiny-sized pies as Papyrus seats himself at an empty spot at the table.

"MISS MOM. MISTER DAD. THIS SPREAD IS ABSOLUTELY BREATHTAKING--I AM COMPLETELY IN AWE OF YOUR HOSTING PROWESS!"

"pap. look. they made little tiny meat pies."

With just the smallest bit of encouraging, the brothers dig in. You knew they were hungry, but it still surprised you how quickly their reserved behavior gave way when it came time to fill their plates.

You can tell your parents are ecstatic at how well received their meal is. And then, you can't help but feel especially proud when Papyrus loudly compliments the vegetables you prepared.

"WELL, WHO MADE THESE?! THEY’RE INCREDIBLE!"

It feels really, really good to hear a genuine compliment and you aren't able to hide your glee at receiving high praise. You tell Papyrus about the origin of the dish--simply prepared yet difficult to perfect, and popular in the city you left home for. His face fills with dreamy wonder to hear your account of everyday things from far away. You realize that you haven’t tried his pasta yet, and decide it's the least you could do to return his praise.

You place a tentative serving on your plate and try a small bite.

It's.......Well....

It looks like just a normal fettuccine alfredo type pasta. Which, really, you can't go wrong with in the first place.

But Papyrus has added a lot to this classic dish. It's well-executed: creamy and rich, but not unpleasantly heavy. You can taste just a touch of finely minced bacon giving it a more salty flavor, and are you detecting a hint of lemon underneath? It's impressive the way all these flavors are balanced.

It's seriously good. You could order this at a restaurant. You could eat this every day.

"Papyrus....This is amazing!"

Sans hasn’t been much for conversation so far, choosing instead to focus on eating. But you notice him tuning into your conversation and grinning now as Papyrus attempts to accept your compliment. "HEH! IT’S...AMAZING? WOW! YOU THINK SO, REALLY?”

Your parents also agree that his pasta is exceptional. Mom even likes it enough to ask about the recipe, and Papyrus’s face lights up in surprised delight when she does.

It looks different than the other times you saw him smile, and you pause for a moment to try to put your finger on why exactly.

Before you can look away, he turns to you and for a split second his flattered grin is pointed directly at you before it vanishes into a nervous, questioning look. He is probably wondering why you're staring at him.

“S....sorry, I--I just saw you smiling, and, and you looked really happy. I was really glad for you." How embarrassing....you got caught staring twice in one day. "Sorry for staring again...it wasn't like--"

Papyrus cheerfully waves off your apology. "NO, I GET IT! IT'S OKAY!” He chuckles, fiddling with the straps on his gloves. "HEH! I GUESS I AM PRETTY HAPPY. I DIDN'T KNOW HOW GOOD IT FELT TO GET COMPLIMENTS LIKE THIS BEFORE!"

Eventually, you realize that the amount of food at this dinner was not an issue at all.

Sans and Papyrus have eaten the majority of the food that was set out. They don’t even seem uncomfortably full now that it’s time to leave. Your parents pack up the leftovers to send off with the pair and you marvel at the amount of food that went inside them tonight.

You wish you could ask about these things, but you know better than to be that rude. It will just have to remain a mystery to you, and that's okay.

Maybe Papyrus can read your mind. Or maybe you just wear your heart on your sleeve. Either way, he grins at you as you ponder these things and cheerfully asks, "ARE YOU SURPRISED AT OUR APPETITES?"

"Oh! Um." You look down, embarrassed. "Yes..."

You figured it would be rude, but he doesn't seem bothered by it.

"HMM, YOU REALLY DON'T KNOW ABOUT IT...IT MAKES SENSE IF YOU DON'T LIVE HERE." He smiles, tightly and doubtfully. "WELL, THE SHORT ANSWER IS THAT WE CAME FROM A DIMENSION OF SCARCITY AND FAMINE. SO EVEN THOUGH WE'VE BEEN ON THE SURFACE FOR OVER A YEAR NOW...."

He relaxes a little, smiling good-naturedly. "WELL. WE CAN ALWAYS FIND ROOM FOR MORE FOOD."

"Oh." You almost feel bad for asking, but he said it so matter-of-factly. Cheerfully, almost. Maybe...it's okay to ask a little more about.

"So you...you never feel full? Ever?"

He shrugs. "NOT IF I CAN SEE OR SMELL FOOD." Sans suddenly jumps into the conversation for the first time since the meal began. "no, not really."

"WE LEARNED THE HARD WAY NOT TO GO SHOPPING IF WE WERE ESPECIALLY HUNGRY--" Sans grins. "...on an empty stomach, one could say."

Papyrus sighs and gives Sans a strained smile. "YES, SKELETON JOKES. VERY FUNNY. THANK YOU FOR THAT.......ANYWAY ONE TIME WE ATE DINNER AT HOME BEFORE GOING TO THE GROCERY STORE."

"....hehehe, but we went too early, and the deli was still open."

"WE ENDED UP BUYING FIFTY DOLLARS WORTH OF CHICKEN AND EATING IT ALL BEFORE WE EVEN FINISHED SHOPPING."

Sans closes his eyes, reliving the fateful shopping trip in his mind. "it was worth every penny."

"IT JUST SMELLED SO GOOD...WHAT WERE WE SUPPOSED TO DO? NOT BUY IT? THEY REALLY SHOULDN’T BE ALLOWED TO SELL THINGS THAT SMELL THAT GOOD."

Sans leans in closer to you and whispers "i'd do it again but paps just won't let me."

"FIFTY DOLLARS SOUNDS LIKE A LOT OF CHICKEN BUT IT ONLY LASTS FOR HALF AN HOUR! IT'S WASTEFUL!"

"you haven't lived until you've drank-eaten a cup of deli popcorn chicken, kid, believe me."

These guys are really chill about all this. Well....Sans is. But it sounds like they must have had a really hard life before, if they even now feel compelled to stuff themselves when they have food available.

"Wow...I'm really glad we made so much food, then!"

Quickly, Papyrus drops his furious chicken rant. "OH, WAIT, DON’T GET US WRONG. WE DEFINITELY DON’T STRUGGLE TO FIND FOOD HERE." He pauses. "BUT ABSOLUTELY, YES, WE DO LOVE BEING FED. IT WAS A PLEASURE."

Mom and dad drive away, towards the setting sun. They’re already late, so you didn’t want to trouble them for a ride. You were looking forward to a walking home anyway, all on your own. It would be a great way to see some stars, way out here along the modest farmhouses and pastures that lack the glaring city lights. You leave the house and head towards the road together with Sans and Papyrus, though it seems they will be heading deeper into the farmland while you are preparing to walk back to the city.

As you approach the road, you realize the emptiness of it all is actually really unsettling. There is nothing happening out here for at least three or four miles. You aren’t used to this....what is it going to feel like after it gets dark? You reckon it will feel terrifying.

The skeleton brothers are walking....it seems like they probably don't have a car, either. It looks like you’ll just have to deal with it. Hesitant to turn back, you pause at the end of the long driveway.

"You guys live out that way, right?"

"YEAH! HEH, IT GETS REALLY DARK OUT HERE AT NIGHT, DOESN'T IT?" Suddenly it dawns on him. "BUT...WAIT, YOU AREN'T WALKING ALL THE WAY BACK BY YOURSELF, ARE YOU?"

“Well....yeah. I don’t have a car, but I’ll be fine." That’s what you say, but as you hear yourself you realize it probably was not very convincing.

"I SEE..."

".........." Sans is nudging Papyrus and giving him a funny look. And just as you work up the courage to bid them farewell and turn away--

"UH, WAIT, BEFORE YOU GO--DO YOU MAYBE WANT A RIDE BACK HOME?"

"Oh! You have a car?"

"WELL, NO. I DO HAVE AN ELECTRIC BIKE, THOUGH. IT'S KIND OF SHAPED LIKE A MOTORCYCLE, EXCEPT SMALLER." Papyrus pauses, choosing his words carefully. “IT'S...NOT EXACTLY AS COMFORTABLE AS A CAR, I GUESS, SINCE YOU'D NEED TO BE CAREFUL, AND......Y'KNOW...HOLD ON TIGHT."

For a moment he says nothing more, the warm orange sunset reflecting off his bony face. That...is the sunset that’s making it glow like that, right?

"I'M PRETTY SURE IT'S NOT REALLY MEANT FOR TWO PEOPLE, NOW THAT I CONSIDER IT. BUT ME AND SANS RIDE IT THAT WAY A LOT. IT...DOESN’T BOTHER ME IF YOU’D RATHER WALK."

You quickly accept his offer before he has a chance to rescind it. It doesn’t sound all that bad. And right now, anything sounds better than having to walk all this way in the dark on your own.

As you follow them to their home, Sans and Papyrus are idly chatting with each other about something or another, but all you can think about is how uncomfortable the darkness is starting to make you. You inch yourself closer to them, closing whatever gap you can while staying socially acceptable.

It makes you smile a little to think that this morning you were frightened of Papyrus and now you are basically hiding behind him for protection.

As you approach what you assume is the skeleton brothers’ home, Papyrus ducks into a shed by the driveway. He tosses out to you something round and heavy before guiding out his bike. “HERE, YOU CAN USE SANS' HELMET."

It seems that it might be a bit too big for you, but you don’t object. It’s better than nothing. Unfortunately, you find it to be pretty difficult to tighten the straps when you can't see anything that you're doing.

".....Like this?" Your vision is obscured by the helmet, but not enough to hide Papyrus’s frown. "UH, NO....LET ME HELP YOU WITH IT."

He leans in close to you, gently pulling your face upwards with a single finger underneath your chin before deftly threading and tightening the strap that holds the helmet to your head. "...OKAY! THAT'S NICE AND SECURE. IT'S NOT TOO TIGHT, RIGHT?"

After you assure him that it isn’t, he jumps up onto the bike and extends his hand towards you. "IT'LL BE EASIER IF YOU SWING YOUR LEG OVER THE SIDE, AND THEN STEP UP. HERE, YOU CAN GRAB HOLD IF IT HELPS." He then takes a moment to brief you on how to be a good passenger before putting on his own helmet. It doesn't seem very hard, though it's starting to make you nervous about the safety of it all.

But when confronted with the alternative of walking home you don't consider changing your mind.

The bike starts up so quietly that you don't even notice it, and you're startled enough to jump when it first begins to move.

Papyrus stops immediately. "YOU OKAY?"

“Yeah, heh, just fine!"

Even though Papyrus had mentioned that you’d need to hold on, you were still planning on trying to just stay still in your spot. But Papyrus was right when he said this bike was not made for two. You feel unstable back here without much to hold onto. So as soon as the bike picks up speed, you can't keep yourself from leaning forward and suddenly wrapping your arms around your new friend.

"S-sorry! I wasn't prepared for this!" You haven’t even been on this ride for one minute and you have already broken one of the rules he told you about--don’t do anything to startle the driver.

".........IT'S FINE."

Papyrus knew you were going to have to hold on, but even still he wasn't able to prepare for it, either.

The rush of feelings he experienced when you hugged yourself close to him was too overwhelming. It was too foreboding.

He felt his soul drop to the floor as he realized that those feelings couldn't be locked up after all. They took their place front and center in his mind during your wordless drive.

What possible outcome could these feelings have, he asked himself wryly? It was hilarious how stupid he was to get this caught up, this quickly. Logically, he knew that nothing that had happened between you two was any indication that you felt the same way, or ever would.

Even now, with your arms wrapped around him--wrapped tightly around him!

Even though that made him feel so good, he recognized that it wasn't happening because you wanted to hug him.

It was only happening because you were unstable and nervous sitting behind him on a flimsy bike.

He wasn't really sure about how things like this normally worked, but he knew enough to know that it wasn't normal to go around falling in love with random people that your life happens to intersect with.

The only explanation he could find for this particular crush was that you hadn't outright rejected him.

It was a strange, unfulfilling mix of emotions--to feel so hopeful, so happy, and yet so full of dread and embarrassment--and he had no choice but to stew in it for as long as your arms were around his waist."

"..................Am I making you uncomfortable? I'm really sorry."

He doesn't answer you this time. It's possible he didn't hear you over the sound of the wind rushing past the moving vehicle. You have no choice but to content yourself with the idea that, uncomfortable or not, you would possibly fly off this thing if you didn't hang on tight.

The isolated road had felt ominous while you were walking out in the open. But now that you're riding something...and holding onto another person...you feel safer. It feels exciting now. It feels mysterious.

This was the way you wanted it to feel while you were walking alone, but you just weren’t brave enough.

You want to take a look up at the stars, but there's no way you could get a good look with this helmet on. You remember Papyrus warned you against shifting around too much, too. Any movements from you could be distracting to him as a driver, since they'd be sudden and unexpected from his perspective."

As you approach the city, there's more and more lights on the road. Papyrus asks at a red light where exactly he is taking you to, and you realize you don’t know. You point to a spot off the road and he pulls off.

“....Uh...I think I’m stuck in here.” The helmet is as hard to get unstrapped as it was to put on. You jump off the bike and gesture to him that you need a little help."

"Ahh--thanks!” You place the helmet under your arm as you search your phone for directions. "I need to look at my phone, so....please wait just a minute. Although I'm also perfectly happy to just walk home myself from here! It’s not scary now that there are other people around, not to mention streetlights."

"ALRIGHT, THEN!.......UM......"

It seems like he wants to say something but then doesn't.

"Yeah?"

"OH.....UM, N--NEVERMIND. SEE YOU!"

He jumps on the bike and speeds off in a hurry, before you even get the chance to say goodbye, or even thanks for the ride.  
You blink, confused. "Hey...he just left? He didn't even take the helmet back."

There’s plenty of time to consider what you should do with your next day as you walk home.

"........I wonder if he'd let me go on another ride sometime. I should text him."

* * *

Sans had been waiting eagerly at the door ever since he saw the headlights pull off of the road and into the driveway. He wasted no time in questioning Papyrus from the moment he stepped through the front door. "hey! how'd it go?"

Papyrus slumps over the arm of the couch. "IT...WENT." He looks miserable.

"huh...? what happened, did something happen? "

Papyrus shakes his head sadly. "NO, I..." His voice trails off. He can still remember what it felt like to be held. He wishes he never would have found out.

A chime from his phone interrupts his morose thoughts just as Sans is about to ask him again.

".....hey, what's going on? bro.....your face is turning red!"

There were four messages there, all from you.

“You left before I could say goodnight!"  
"So...goodnight! And thanks for the ride!"  
"Maybe we could do it again sometime? It was really fun."  
"As long as you really don't mind me clinging to you like a baby possum... :)"

Papyrus is too wrapped up in his thoughts to shoo away his nosy brother who peers at the glass screen of the phone from behind his shoulder..

".......this...is...awesome! pap, this is great!......why do you look so terrified?"

There was no way you were as interested as it sounded like you were. .....Right?


	4. Tea Party

Ebbot's friendly, tree-lined streets were beginning to all look the same to you.

You had thought it would be easy to find your old school--a place that had been so familiar to you the last time you had lived here. Really, you should have known better, considering the staggering amount of development that’s gone on since you left.

After wandering from one unfamiliar street to the next for what felt like ages, you were now finally ready to admit defeat and pull up a map on your phone. There was no point in making yourself late over this. Morning training for the Monster-Human friendship event was at 6:30 AM but you had completely missed it yesterday. You had forgotten all about it because of the dentist appointment (which, before yesterday, you had also forgotten about).

It wasn't like you to be so scatter-brained with appointments and commitments. You considered that maybe this was a sign that you should slow down--to take things easy, and really lean into being on vacation. As you entered the address of your old school into your phone, you made a mental note to yourself to avoid setting up any other appointments before realizing it was already too late for that today--you had already made an appointment this morning, with Papyrus.

He had texted you sometime during the night, thanking you for dinner again and asking if he could retrieve his forgotten helmet from you in exchange for lunch at a popular cafe in town. You had chuckled a little, remembering that yesterday he had completely sped off without it for some reason, before accepting his request enthusiastically and hurrying out the door.

As your map shows you getting closer to the school, you idly wonder if the school grounds are at all changed from what you remember. The idea that they could be makes you surprisingly sad, considering you didn’t really like this place when you were younger. You couldn’t leave it fast enough once you were able to, and you avoided coming back for a pretty long time. Why did you suddenly have feelings about what the school looked like? Would you be relieved for some reason if it somehow did remain unchanged?

It suddenly occurs to you that even if everything at your old school is physically the same as when you left it, you can never go back to being a kid again.

Until this moment, you have never once wanted to go back to that time. Even now you don’t, really. You were happy to leave it behind and for good reason. But now...now that all the bad memories have faded and only a few good ones stand out in your mind, you wish you could go back--just for a moment, only to take a peek! You want to remember what it felt like to be your younger self. You want to go back to the straightforwardness of a highly structured life and take a load off your mind for just a minute.

Actually, you're pretty sure that your younger self would scorn such foolishness and tell you to just take a dang vacation. And they’d be right. Thinking like this is as fruitless as it is illusory--a structure-heavy, expectations-heavy life is difficult in a way you haven’t had to consider in a long time. So you try your best to ground yourself and shoo away that over-sentimentality from your mind.

The school is like a relic of another time, sitting entirely unchanged in the urban environment. To see it makes the nostalgia swell again inside you, furious at being checked even as it is proved false by the way you have misremembered so many things about this place. But it’s all coming back to you now that you see it in person and you realize now that you couldn’t even remember it correctly.

At the front of the grassy field, a fish monster with a scarred face sits imposingly over a table full of paperwork. Her face has an intense expression as she pores over something that is undoubtedly very official and serious. You suddenly feel very hesitant to go through with this. Adjusting your stride, you pad cautiously up to the table. As Ms. Fish notices you approach, she quickly marks her spot in.....oh, that's a shonen manga...before jumping to her feet and flashing you an energetic toothy smile. "Hey!! It's our new recruit, right? Right?!” You nod, frozen in place. 

“Let's see...name badge first!" Her own name badge reads "Undyne". You relax a bit as Undyne continues on--making small talk and asking you about how you found the event.

She’s actually really friendly. You chide yourself, thinking that you should have remembered by now not to judge monsters by the way they look. Besides, this entire event exists to strengthen Monster-Human relations, so you really should have known better than to be scared. You look out to scan the field as you spell out your name for her, noticing how few other people are here.

Undyne sorts through papers, placing them in front of you one by one for you to sign before confirming your suspicions. "Huh! It’s good to know the library fliers weren’t useless after all. Several other people have had to cancel, and turnout was already low to start with, and..." Her energetic tone falters for a moment. "And as of now there's no other volunteers in your section. So I'm glad that you..." You catch sight of a hard-to-decipher expression on her face as you glance up at the sudden change in tone.

"S-sorry about yesterday..." You didn't consider until now that it might have been a real inconvenience for anyone. "I forgot I had a dentist appointment."

"Well hey! You came today, right? And that's what matters!" Her grin is back in full force now as she hands to you a folder, name badge, and lanyard. "So don't sweat it! Go on and enjoy the training!"

Looking out over the field you see several small groups of a roughly equal amount of monsters and humans. One group seems to be practicing a dance routine. Another is playing musical instruments, another is batting birdies back and forth over a makeshift badminton net. It lifts your spirits to see so many people having fun together. You remember what the text message said and look around for a skeleton, but fail to find any.

You do, however, find an interesting setup in the corner of the field. There is some sort of pattern on the ground formed from lights and knee-high pyramid-shaped fixtures, all spread out over what appears to be a thick silicone mat. No one else is here at the moment, but you see various tools, equipment, and papers on the table nearby. You glance at them briefly but find them too complicated for you to decipher any real meaning from.

Just as you are ready to turn away and leave, you notice a button on the ground. It’s large, flat, red, and shiny. You know you probably shouldn’t go pushing random buttons but...it beckons you.

You reach out and gently step on the button. Immediately, a satisfying series of clanks sounds out from behind you.

Whirling back to the arrangement on the ground, you immediately notice that it has inverted itself--the lights and fixtures have changed places. How is that possible?! You approach a light and inspect it. Quickly, you find you are able to grab and pull up on it, extending it up and up until it clicks into place, telescoping out into the shape of a pyramid and switching off the light. The pyramids, however, are fixed into place. The only way to turn them back into lights is to step on the button again. 

You have forgotten all about what you were here for at this point. What the heck does all this mean? Intrigued, you circle the arrangement of pyramids and lights, testing each one to see what will happen.

As you are crouched down, investigating one particularly suspicious light, a sudden loud laughter at your side makes you jump out of your skin and crash into a nearby pyramid.

“NYEH HEH HEHH---HEY!! WOW, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” A tall, very loud skeleton looks down at you, shock on his face, and holds out his hand. “I....AH--” You take his hand and he pauses, pulling you to your feet. “WOWIE! YOU MUST HAVE BEEN REALLY IMPRESSED WITH MY PUZZLE TO BE THAT FOCUSED!” He beams at the realization.

“...Puzzle?” You look back at the confusing arrangement. “Huh…” You aren’t sure what to say about it. You’re not....not impressed. But you don’t really get it, either.

“Does this thing really have a solution?” You finally manage to ask.

“WELL DUH! WHY WOULD I MAKE IT WITHOUT ONE…” He squinted at you, as if trying to ascertain your level of sincerity, before his face suddenly brightened again as he realized.

“HEY! YOU WOULDN’T HAPPEN TO BE HERE TO VOLUNTEER, WOULD YOU?”

“Well, I--” “YEAH! YOU MUST BE!” It annoyed you slightly that he had talked over you without even waiting for your answer, even though he was right. You curtly nodded your head in confirmation and he clapped his hands together in delight. “EXCELLENT! YOU HAVE EXCELLENT TASTE. COMING STRAIGHT OVER TO THE PUZZLE CORNER WITHOUT EVEN NEEDING TO BE TOLD.” He squinted again. “OR DID UNDYNE TELL YOU?”

You quickly got the feeling that this guy liked to talk just to hear the sound of his own voice. He went on talking, not waiting to hear your reply as he pulled out a remote control from the pile on the table and hit a button that leveled the puzzle field.

“DOESN’T MATTER! HEY--LET’S FORGET ABOUT THIS ONE. YOU WANNA MAKE ONE? I’LL SHOW YOU HOW--IT’S SO EASY, I’M SURE YOU COULD!”

Before this got too out of control, you held out your hand as a signal for him to stop talking. “Wait...what are we doing? I’m supposed to be training, right? What am I...I mean...what does this have to do with the event?”

The skeleton scratched his cheekbone in thought, “OH. HUH. I GUESS I NEVER EXPLAINED THAT, DID I?” You shook your head. “WELL, I’LL START BY INTRODUCING MYSELF! I’M PAPYRUS, SEE?” He gestures to his own name tag and your eyes widen at the recognition. Papyrus claps his hands together and grins. “I SEE YOU’VE HEARD OF ME! PERFECT.”

You don’t know how to explain the actual situation, and before you can think of what to say Papyrus has cleared his...throat? with a sharp cough and continued on. “I’M IN CHARGE OF THE PUZZLE SEGMENT OF THE EVENT. DID YOU KNOW THAT PUZZLES ARE AN IMPORTANT MONSTER TRADITION? BECAUSE THEY ARE! AND IN THREE DAYS, WE’RE GOING TO PRESENT A PUZZLE THAT EVERYONE CAN ATTEMPT AND ENJOY!”

He gestures to the strange electronic puzzle field. “THIS IS WHAT OUR TEAM CAME UP WITH LAST YEAR! IT WAS A COMPLETE HIT! SO I WANTED TO SHOW IT OFF A LITTLE, AS WELL AS USE IT TO INTRODUCE TO YOU SOME OF THE MOST BASIC AND TIMELESS ELEMENTS OF PUZZLE MAKING.”

You’re trying to pay attention to what he’s saying as he begins to extrapolate about puzzles--really, you are. But you’re hung up on the fact that this guy is apparently an alternate version of the person you met yesterday. The longer you look at his face and listen to his voice, the more similarities you find. You wonder if they are real, or only imagined up by the power of suggestion.

Suddenly Papyrus leans down a bit, smirking at you. “HEY--ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING? OR DID YOU GET DISTRACTED BY MY GOOD LOOKS AND CHARM?”

You have the decency not to outright contradict him with your words, but your unchecked facial expression says it all--you aren’t impressed with the confidence this Papyrus has in his own coolness.

“AHEM. RIGHT. WE CAN PRETEND I DIDN’T SAY THAT!” Papyrus backs off and grins widely. You smile and laugh a little--he certainly isn’t subtle. But you have to give him credit for being funny.

“Well...it’s true I was a little distracted. For other reasons. Sorry, but maybe you could explain again? I’m listening now.”

Papyrus explains to you, using his puzzle device as an example, what he calls the 3 cornerstones of puzzles: maneuverability, predictability, and complexity.

Firstly, he explains, a puzzle must be maneuverable. You need to be able to manually adjust it in some way. “SEE THE WAY THIS PUZZLE REQUIRES YOU TO PULL UP EACH FIXTURE BY HAND? THIS ALLOWS YOU TO REALLY IMMERSE YOURSELF! IT MAKES IT MORE FUN!” Indeed, you had noticed that the crisp click when you snapped a light up into a pyramid and the satisfaction of feeling the fixtures snap into place had made it fun and rewarding to play with the puzzle. So much so that you had been completely engrossed in it before being startled.

“SECONDLY! A PUZZLE SHOULD BE PREDICTABLE IN SOME WAY. IT WOULD BE REALLY UNSATISFYING FOR THE SOLUTION TO BE RANDOM OR IMPOSSIBLE TO REASON OUT...AND OBVIOUSLY IT WOULD BE A COMPLETE WASTE OF EVERYONE’S TIME IF WE MADE A PUZZLE THAT COULDN’T BE SOLVED. THE FUNNEST PART ABOUT DESIGNING PUZZLES IS WAITING FOR THEM BE FIGURED OUT!”

“Right, you mentioned before that this puzzle has a solution. So what is it? It doesn’t seem very predictable to me...”

Papyrus narrowed his eye sockets, regarding you suspiciously again. “WELL! I WOULDN’T JUST GIVE SOMETHING LIKE THAT AWAY. YOU’LL HAVE TO SOLVE IT FOR YOURSELF. BUT THAT CONVENIENTLY LEADS US TO THE LAST POINT--THE COMPLEXITY OF A PUZZLE. THE COMPLEXITY SHOULD BE RELATIVELY EASY TO SCALE UP OR DOWN. THAT’S BECAUSE--WELL, HERE, LET ME SHOW YOU!”

With a dramatic gesture, Papyrus pressed a button on the puzzle’s controller, then tapped out a few more in rapid succession. “THE PUZZLE YOU WERE FIDDLING WITH BEFORE WAS ENTIRELY UNSOLVABLE FOR A BEGINNER WITHOUT CONTEXT. SO! LET’S TRY SOMETHING LIKE THIS FIRST.”

With a final press of a button, the puzzle field came to life. “Hey...last time there were more lights.” You carefully inspected the squares which had not turned on at all. They didn’t respond to your touch, so you turned your attention to the four corners of the area. All except for one had a light and a pyramid lined up next to each other. At the fourth corner, you immediately noticed the pattern and completed it by lifting up one light to match the other corners. At this, a chime rang out cheerfully and the lights flashed brightly for a moment.

Papyrus cheered and gave you an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “YOU DID IT! EASY, RIGHT? NOW…”

At the press of a button, the puzzle field shifted once more and Papyrus challenged you to find a solution.

You were already in the mindset to look for a pattern, so it wasn’t very hard to find one. But once you completed it...

“Hey, it didn’t work! ...What now?” You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. It had taken you several minutes to manually lift up each light into place. And now...well, you had no idea what else the solution might possibly be.

“WELL, THINK ABOUT IT! WHAT ELSE COULD YOU DO NOW?” His lilting voice indicated that he considered this question a hint. Sulkily you looked around the field for an answer but found none.

With a resigned shrug, you began making your way out of the puzzle area. “HEY!! YOU’RE NOT REALLY GIVING UP, ARE YOU? YOU’RE SO CLOSE!” Papyrus’s indignant tone annoyed you. “Of course I’m giving up! I don’t know...I don’t know what to do now! Unless you want to give me a hint?” He snorted at the suggestion. “Then I’m done.”

“WAIT--YOU’RE BEING SERIOUS. YOU’RE GIVING UP? HEY--” Papyrus realizes suddenly that you’re serious about giving up when he sees you begin to walk off the puzzle field and has a brief moment of panic. “OKAY, OKAY--I’LL GIVE YOU A HINT....” He pauses for effect while you eagerly wait and then gestures to the side of the field opposite from you. “MAYBE YOU SHOULD GIVE UP OVER THERE.”

“That’s...a hint?” You can’t help but roll your eyes a bit, but still follow his instructions just in case. The only thing you see is...the button. ”Ohhh.”

As the entire field inverts itself, the chime sings and the lights flash. Papyrus claps his hands together and praises you warmly. “NYEH HEH HEH HEH! WONDERFUL!”

The next puzzle is even harder, with a more difficult pattern and less room for error. You realize that if you make even one mistake by lifting up the wrong light, you either have to ask Papyrus to reset the entire thing for you or you have to go through the tedious process of pressing the button, lifting the light, and pressing the button again. Papyrus resets the puzzle for you several times before you eventually give up entirely. You’ve had just about all of the puzzle solving you can stand, and luckily Papyrus seems to be okay with you quitting this time. He even appears to be eager for you to stand back and watch him model the solution, and then goes on to offer a few tips to help you solve puzzles like this more effectively in the future.

Training isn’t particularly long, and at the end Papyrus suggests that you take some time to think of your own puzzle design before tomorrow. He won’t hear any of your protests against the idea. Actually, it’s really hard for you to tell if he literally didn’t hear them, or if he’s merely ignoring them out of stubbornness.

“WHAT? OF COURSE I HEARD YOU! I HEARD YOU SAY THAT PUZZLE HOMEWORK IS A GREAT IDEA, AND I’M JUST SAYING I’M REALLY GLAD YOU THINK SO, TOO! ...HUH? YOU’RE SAYING YOU SAID IT’S NOT A GREAT IDEA? DON’T JOKE ABOUT IMPORTANT THINGS LIKE THAT!” In the end you drop it, slightly annoyed. Papyrus grins and you can’t tell if he’s being smug or not. 

You have mixed feelings about this thing you’ve gotten yourself into and you ponder them as you exit the school, looking for the breakfast cart you saw on your way in which is apparently long gone now. Papyrus seems to be really smart--able to engineer and program intricate electronic puzzles--and also extremely funny. But at the same time, his eagerness to praise himself and to misunderstand you was frustrating at best. You try to remind yourself that this event is all about making friends. Strengthening the relationship between Humans and Monsters. It’s the least you could do to give him another chance tomorrow, and see if you can’t learn how to tolerate the way he acts.

As the day goes on, you find yourself thinking about how the Papyrus you just met and the Papyrus you have lunch with are two different people. It’s obvious they act nothing like each other, though after looking for it you were sure you could notice a few physical similarities.

You wonder if they have met. You wonder if they are friends, the way the iterations of Toriel seemed to be. You wonder if it’s polite to ask.

Warmly lit and smelling of fresh bread and coffee, the cafe Papyrus invited you to is quiet and not too busy. Cafes are supposed to be cozy and relaxing like this, and you like it immediately.

A sign in the window was advertising afternoon tea sets. Even though it’s technically before-noon right now, you really want to try one. You take a minute to glance at the menu at the counter before turning your attention to the cafe’s interior--the first thing you need to do is find Papyrus. He offered to treat you, after all.

A server walks past you with a push cart full of display samples. The variety is impressive and you lean in to get a closer look. "Ooh...is this the pastry menu?"

The server gives you an apologetic smile. "Oh, sorry! These aren't display samples. This is the six-person tea set."

Oh.  
...You have a feeling that if you follow this tea set, you will find Papyrus. And--yep, there he is. He's sitting by himself, leaning forward with his elbows on the small table and his nose stuck in a book.

Well. Y'know. Idiomatically.

He straightens himself up when he sees you approach, smiling warmly.

"OH--HEY! YOU MADE IT!"

He places a bookmark in his book before setting it aside and bringing a daintily handled teacup to his mouth and slurping.

"Wow...this is a lot of food! I was thinking about getting one of the sets, but it looks like you already read my mind."

Without breaking eye contact with you, he brings a slice of pound cake to his mouth and takes a huge bite. "MMH-HMMH." He has to wash it down with more tea before answering you properly. "I ORDERED THIS FOR ME, THOUGH."

"..........." You glance at the tray. It's chock-full of savories, cakes, snacks, desserts...more than one person could ever expect to eat alone.

"OF COURSE--WE COULD SHARE IT! I’M OPEN TO THAT." It sounds like he changed his mind about that when he realized how ridiculous it looked for him to be keeping this amount of food for himself.

He gestures to the chair across from him, then pours you a fresh cup of tea and fills up a plate with an assortment of morsels from the top tray table. "HERE, HAVE A TRY! SEE WHAT YOU LIKE THE MOST. AND MAKE SURE TO SAVOR THE BAKLAVA, BECAUSE I'M NOT SHARING MORE THAN ONE PIECE." Suddenly he claps his hands, struck with inspiration. "WAIT, NO--BETTER IDEA. I'LL JUST ORDER SOME MORE! YOU'LL WANT MORE THAN ONE. AND I'LL WANT MORE THAN FIVE."

You decide to take a small bite of the baklava and savor it as he said to. It's delightful, rich and sticky-sweet. "Ahh...that's really special."

Papyrus beams at seeing you enjoy one of his favorite snacks. "IT IS! THIS SHOP IS THE ONLY PLACE IN TOWN THAT MAKES IT." He sighs dreamily. “IT GETS SO STICKY AND DELIGHTFUL IF YOU COME IN THE DAY AFTER IT’S MADE. GIVES THE FLAVORS A GOOD CHANCE TO COME TOGETHER, TOO."

"Heh, it sounds like you come here a lot, then?” "HEH HEH, KIND OF. I WAS THINKING ABOUT APPLYING FOR A JOB HERE, ACTUALLY!"

"Oh, good luck! I know you can do it." It was more a polite encouragement rather than an enthusiastic endorsement, but Papyrus seems touched by your words. "WOW...I REALLY APPRECIATE YOU SAYING THAT. I NEVER WOULD HAVE EVEN CONSIDERED IT BEFORE MY TEETH GOT FIXED UP. SO..IT’S REALLY NEW TO ME. I’VE NEVER HAD A JOB BEFORE, Y’KNOW?"

"............" He pauses, seemingly pondering something before looking back up with a grin.

"HEY, WHAT'S MORE IMPORTANT TO YOU? EATING A LOT OF ONE THING YOU LOVE? OR HAVING A BITE OF EVERYTHING?"

You don’t even need to consider. "Oh, definitely a bite of everything! I want to try it all. How will I know what's the best if I don't try each one?"

Papyrus is delighted at your philosophy. "ABSOLUTELY! I WANT TO SAMPLE EVERYTHING, BAD OR GOOD! JUST THE ACT OF EATING IT IS SATISFYING FOR ME." He looks down, choosing his words carefully now as he inspects a little round tart on his plate, gently breaking off a morsel of the flaky crust and observing the way that it crumbles. "ACTUALLY...I USED TO BE KIND OF PICKY ABOUT FOOD. BUT NOT ANYMORE."

Looking up again, he smiles at you gently. "IT'S INTERESTING TO ME, HOW OUR EXPERIENCES CAN SHAPE OUR PERCEPTION."

Papyrus looks down again and pauses for a moment, contemplating something. He selects a piece of baklava from the tray and delicately stuffs the whole thing in his mouth with an appreciative “MM” before continuing.

"WELL! AS IT TURNS OUT, I'VE ALREADY SAMPLED EVERYTHING HERE. AND I ALREADY LOVE EVERYTHING HERE! SO I CAN HAVE IT BOTH WAYS BY ORDERING THIS AND EATING IT ALL BY MYSELF--” He catches himself with a grin. “AH! I MEAN, ALL BY MYSELF--WITH YOU!”

"Ha, thanks for inviting me! You planned it out nicely...well, even if you had actually only planned this feast for yourself. I can see you hosting a killer dinner party! There’d be plenty and to spare..."

Papyrus nearly chokes on his food as you utter those words. "GAH, WHAT? A KILLER DINNER PARTY?!"

You hesitate. "Y-yeah, uh, I just mean. It just seems like you have given a lot of thought into the enjoyment of a meal." Unsure of whether what you said was stupid or not, you try to clarify further. "And I thought, that would make you a really good host for a dinner party, you know..." He doesn’t look much reassured. You realize it was the word “killer” that seemed to surprise him. "Killer is....just an expression that means really, really good."

"OH...THANKS." He looks uncomfortable still.

Feels a bit awkward now.

"Sorry...heh..." You feel like you messed things up, but you want to fix it. "Um...can I ask what you're reading? Is it anything you can recommend? I've been thinking about finding a book to pick up, while I'm on vacation." You conveniently leave out that you’re supposed to be reading a book about snails right now.

At this Papyrus smiles a little. "OH, THIS? WELL, DO YOU LIKE KID'S BOOKS?" Upon closer inspection, you see that it's an anthology of books from a classic children's book author. "I GUESS MOST PEOPLE DON'T READ STUFF LIKE THIS FOR FUN." Papyrus pauses, running a finger over the embossed lettering on the cover. "BUT I THINK IT'S REALLY RELAXING. AND THE ILLUSTRATIONS ARE JUST SO CUTE."

"Oh! I recognize that series, actually. My mom used to read those to me when I was little. I'm fuzzy on most of the details of the actual stories, but I'll never forget how much she loved reading them to me." You smile fondly, remembering that feeling. "I guess it never occured to me to go back and read them again...I'm not a kid anymore. But you're right, you don't have to be a child to enjoy things like that!"

Papyrus is intrigued. "HOW INTERESTING, YOU GREW UP WITH THESE STORIES...DID YOU READ A LOT, THEN? WITH YOUR MOM?" "Yeah, every night. It was really special."

You hesitate. You want to ask about him, but aren’t sure if asking about the Underground is okay. You know nothing about it.

You take a chance and do it anyway. "What...about you? What sort of books did you read, Underground? Did you have a lot of chances to read?"

Papyrus taps his jawbone thoughtfully. "WELL...I LIVED RIGHT NEXT DOOR TO A LIBRARY. IT WASN'T VERY BIG REALLY, BUT I READ EVERYTHING I COULD GET MY HANDS ON." He smiles, you guess at the memory. "HISTORY, FICTION, SELF-HELP....EVERYTHING THEY HAD. THERE WAS NEVER A TIME THAT I DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO READ, I DON'T THINK."

Then he frowns. "........I DIDN’T ALWAYS FEEL LIKE IT THOUGH. AFTER A WHILE." While looking down at his book, Papyrus lets his face settle down into the palm of his hand before looking up at you again.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK…” His speech is deliberate. Careful.

"...ABOUT THESE SPINACH PUFFS?" He grins a little too broadly and pops one into his mouth whole, pointing to the one he had served to you when you first sat down.

“H...huh? Why'd you ask about that all of a sudden?" You felt a little confused.

"BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT THAT ANYMORE. NOW EAT YOUR SPINACH PUFF."

The spinach puff is a little small. It's probably meant to be eaten in one bite. Still, out of curiosity, you decide to merely nibble it.

It's not bad. The flavor is mild and the crust is delightfully flaky. "It's nice. Yet inferior to the baklava in every way." Papyrus smiles wistfully at that. "AH, BUT WHAT ISN'T? THAT'S A BIT OF AN UNFAIR COMPARISON." He gulps down another spinach puff before continuing. "PERSONALLY, I QUITE ENJOY THEM. BUT, I ENJOY EVERYTHING. SO I WONDER A LOT HOW OTHER PEOPLE MIGHT PERCEIVE THINGS LIKE THIS."

Suddenly he is struck with an idea. "HEY, HOW WOULD YOU RATE IT OUT OF FIVE STARS? TELL ME WHAT EXACTLY YOU LIKE ABOUT IT! OR...WHAT EXACTLY YOU DON’T."

You take another bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Well, I don’t not like them. But, to be frank, I did kind of think they were a bit bland. I guess I couldn't honestly give them more than two stars."

"OH, REALLY? HMM, BLAND...INTERESTING. I THINK I'D GIVE THESE A FOUR. THEY DO HAVE A MILD FLAVOR, IT'S TRUE, BUT THEY ARE JUST SO SATISFYING TO SNAP UP WHOLE THAT I REALLY DON'T CARE."

Suddenly, Papyrus punctuates his statement by bringing his open palm down on the table, forcefully enough to gently clatter his teacup, yet not so forceful as to be inappropriate.

"ONWARD, NOW! BEA! NEXT PLEASE RATE THIS FINE CONFECTION!"

He selects from a tray a plate of snacks that resemble saltines, placing one on his plate and another on your own.

You stare at the cookie...cracker-type thing. "A...confection?"

"HM, IS THAT THE WRONG WORD? I GUESS SO. IT'S A COOKIE! EAT IT!"

The square little cracker looks almost exactly like a saltine that failed to brown. As you pick it up, a crumb of the sanding sugar which sits atop it falls back down to the plate, and you can feel that it is actually much softer and less crumbly than a saltine. You nibble it cautiously before going ahead and taking a large bite. It has a mildly sweet cardamom flavor and is soft, like a thick, slightly stale graham cracker. As you savor the rest of the cookie you can also taste a coconut and vanilla flavor.

"Oh--this one is exquisite!" You reach over to the plate, eager to sample it again. "The finely chopped pistachios and course topping sugar are both really nice touches." Papyrus is amused by your appreciation. "OHO, YOU REALLY LIKE THAT?"

"It's so good! This is the kind of cookie I can eat over and over and over and never get bored.

Bemused, Papyrus holds a half-eaten cookie up to get a better look. "HMMM. I MEAN, THEY ARE PRETTY GOOD." He takes another bite to be sure. "I THINK THEY WOULD NEED TO BE SWEETER, THOUGH. AND MAYBE BE LIKE, COVERED IN DESSICATED COCONUT." Still, he happily finishes the cookie with one final gulp. "IN ORDER TO GET FULL MARKS FROM ME, I MEAN. I THINK I GIVE IT A FOUR.”

"Hey, this is fun! What else do you want me to judge?" You eye the tray wistfully, wondering what other delights await you.

"HMMM...WELL. YOU ALREADY HAD SOMETHING SALTY. AND YOU ALREADY HAD SOMETHING SWEET...HOW ABOUT SOMETHING A LITTLE MORE MUTED?" He looks at you suddenly, and seriously. "DON'T YOU DARE CALL IT BLAND."

He serves you something triangular that seems to be wrapped up neatly in a leaf, and tied with a piece of string.

"I love the presentation. It’s adorable!." You pull the knot loose and unfold the leaf to reveal a sticky triangle of rice.

He grins. "YEAH, ISN'T IT? IT'S LIKE A LITTLE PRESENT. A PRESENT FOR YOU!” He nudges a tiny, shallow dish full of a dark brown liquid toward your plate. "HERE, DON'T FORGET TO DIP IT IN THE SYRUP."

Awkwardly you skewer the entire thing on your fork and take a large, chewy bite. After dipping it, obviously.

The rice is sticky and mild, but something about the flavor reminds you of a pretzel, or something similarly cooked in lye. It is surprisingly dense, and holds its shape well even after you bite it. The center of the dumpling is filled with a thick and chunky red bean paste and a few soft peanuts.

You turn the dumpling over in your mouth, tasting it thoroughly before giving your verdict. "Hmm..this is really neat. It's honestly not that great on its own." You stick your fork in the syrup again for a little taste. "But as a part of an afternoon tea, it really shines. Somehow, it is really enhanced by the tea. And it in turn enhances the tea, as well. Maybe I'm not a cultured enough tea drinker, but..." You take another little sip to accompany the aftertaste of the dumpling. "What's the point of drinking tea without little snacks to go with it? And this one is perfect for that role."

Papyrus is moved by your speech. "I...I FEEL EXACTLY THE SAME WAY." He is getting emotional about these little snacks, but you’re pretty sure he’s hamming it up to be funny.

"THERE'S NOTHING ELSE TO SAY ABOUT IT. YOU'VE HIT THE NAIL ON THE HEAD. ALTHOUGH, THERE IS ONE POINT I'D DIFFER ON." He looks around carefully to make sure no one else can hear him before leaning in over the table. "....I WOULD HAVE DUNKED IT IN THE SYRUP FOR EVEN LONGER. MAYBE EVEN TAKEN A CLANDESTINE SIP OF IT, IF NO ONE WAS LOOKING."

Sitting back into his chair, he grins over at you. "BUT, I CAN'T FAULT YOU FOR SHOWING SOME RESTRAINT. I WAS SITTING RIGHT HERE, AFTER ALL. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN HARD TO SNEAK."

"......Oh! Hey! This is sudden, but I just remembered. Here--" You reach into the bag you carried into the restaurant, and pull out the helmet. "I brought this! I almost forgot all about it."

"OH! YEAH. ME, TOO." Papyrus laughs nervously. "THAT WAS SILLY OF ME TO DRIVE OFF WITHOUT IT...SORRY TO CAUSE YOU THE TROUBLE OF HAVING TO RETURN IT."

"Not at all! I had fun riding on your bike. Actually, I'd never done that before. I didn't really know what to expect at first, and it was kind of scary. But I warmed up to it pretty quick."

Papyrus seemed relieved when he heard you say it was fun. "HEH, I'M GLAD. I WAS KIND OF WORRIED YOU HATED IT."

He remained silent as you cheerfully shook your head “no” at the idea. You hadn’t hated it at all.

"UM...ACTUALLY, YOU MENTIONED YOU WANTED TO GO FOR ANOTHER RIDE SOMETIME, AND--" He hesitates, unwilling to be too direct. "I'M KIND OF HAVING FUN RATING FOODS WITH YOU. SO--" Nervously, he pulls at his collar. "MAYBE, DO YOU WANT TO HAVE SOME SORT OF COOK-OFF AT MY PLACE?" He pauses, but not long enough for you to answer. "I CAN COME PICK YOU UP, IF YOU WANT TO RIDE AGAIN!"

"Hey, that sounds fun. I’d love to.”

You pause, before deciding you should clarify. "So...would that be like a date, then?"

"NO!" He’s very quick to refute it, and you’re a little surprised. "Oh, okay. That’s fine--sure, let's do it!" "WAIT, DO YOU WANT IT TO BE A DATE?" 

"I mean, yeah!...Actually, I kind of thought this was like a date."

He narrows his eye sockets and you are instantly reminded of the other him that you met. "I NEVER SAID IT WAS A DATE, DID I?"

"No, no--sorry--For some reason, I thought you kind of liked me. I thought I...heard you talking about it before dinner."

Papyrus hangs his head, palm to his forehead. "OH MY GOD...YOU HEARD THAT."

His head shoots up again, eye sockets wide. "OH MY GOD! YOU'RE FINE WITH THAT?!"

You grin at him. "Sure, why not? I like you, you're nice."

"............." He’s looking at you in complete disbelief. He says nothing.

"Hey, um, wait--a date doesn't have to be a super big deal. It's just, y’know...it’s a good way to get to know someone you might be interested in! So, spending time together like this--doing things like having a cook off together--those are good ways for you to test those feelings out, y’know?" You pause, suddenly shy. "It's a good way for me to test out how I feel about you, too. I want to get to know you better. And that's what dates are for!"

Papyrus’s eye sockets narrow again as he considers what you said. "HMM...SO MAYBE...THIS IS A DATE AFTER ALL?"

"You did invite me here, and offer to buy me lunch. It's a pretty date-like thing."

He sinks back into his chair, mind blown. "......WOW. THAT...REALLY SNUCK UP ON ME."

"Like I said, don't think too hard about it. Let's just plan on having fun! And seeing what happens." You pat his gloved hand and give him a reassuring smile.

"HEH, YEAH. OKAY! BUT...FIRST WE NEED TO FINISH THIS FOOD!"

Papyrus delighted in sharing the snacks he loved with you. The snacks themselves, while good, were not actually all that special to you on their own. But eating and analyzing them together was fun. It was also kind of exciting not knowing what he was going to serve you next. 

Maybe this meeting hadn’t officially been called as such. But it was still the funnest lunch date you’d had in ages.

Papyrus had ambitious plans for your first official date as he walked alongside you on your way home. "HOW ABOUT WE DO AN IRON CHEF TYPE OF COOK-OFF? WE CAN GET SANS TO FETCH US A SECRET INGREDIENT. AND SURPRISE EACH OTHER WITH OUR CREATIONS!"

"That sounds fun, but impossible to judge. Unless Sans is invited to our date."

"HUH...GOOD POINT." He scratches his chin thoughtfully. "WELL, WE CAN JUST SKIP THE JUDGING! WHOEVER HAS THE MOST FUN IS THE WINNER! I JUST WANT TO COOK WITH A SECRET INGREDIENT."

"Hm...I hope riding during the day is just as fun as riding at night. Traffic around here can get kind of bad in the evening." "IT'LL BE FINE--I'LL DRIVE CAREFULLY."

Papyrus is impressed with the apartment complex you’re staying at. “I STILL PREFER TO LIVE OUT IN THE STICKS, THOUGH.”

“I think I would too! If I was staying long-term. It would be fun. I only have a few days left here, though.”

"...OH. RIGHT, I FORGOT YOU WERE ONLY VISITING…” He sounds disappointed and you hurry to clarify.

"I am, but--I’m only leaving the rental in a few days. After that I’ll probably just stay with my parents, unless I find a good place. I didn’t really prepare properly before coming here, and--well, there are a lot of tourists this time of year, you know? I’m kind of out of options.”

"HMM, SORRY I CAN'T BE OF ANY HELP THERE..."

You both stand by the entrance to your apartment complex now, hesitating. It kind of feels like this conversation should've ended a little while ago, honestly.

"Thanks for lunch, then!"

"OH, SURE! ....THANKS FOR COMING, EVEN THOUGH YOU THOUGHT IT WAS A DATE."

".........."

"We can hug now, if you want."

"AH..."

This time, you really were hugging him because you wanted to.

.....It almost didn't seem real, except for the fact that it was. Papyrus didn't know what to do, at first. Even though you were so laid back about it all, well…

It was scary to think about messing up.  
But it seemed to him that you liked it, from the way that you suggested it. And from the way you had smiled at him before walking away. "See ya soon!"

"YEAH--SEE YOU SOON!”

“...........” "That uneasy mix of joy, hope, dread, and soul-crushing embarrassment was slowly settling down into something less terrible.

After waiting for so long, and even setting aside those hopes for connection with another person...It had become obvious to Papyrus that those hopes couldn't truly be set aside from the way that your date made him incredibly happy.

Had it all really fallen into place over the course of two days?

What was the catch?

He wasn't thinking about what catch there might be.

Instinctively, his mind was eager to brace itself--waiting for the other shoe to fall. But Papyrus was determined to find happiness. He wasn't about to dwell on those thoughts.

Not while a kind and cute human was encouraging him like that.

.....It was more fun to dwell on happier thoughts. Thoughts about cute humans. Thoughts about the way it felt when someone smiled at you. Thoughts about being green-lit for a hug.

Thoughts about....oh....wait....

Thoughts about how you'd be leaving before the end of the month?.........Rats. Those weren't the thoughts he wanted to think about.

...No. Even now, after realizing that this relationship had an expiration date, he refused to think negatively.

Yes, he should really use this opportunity to be bold, he realized. If he didn't have much time with you, shouldn't that be a reason to relax, and not overthink things?

If it all ended horribly...well, it was destined to end anyway, right?

And if it all went well...well. A chance to love and be loved like this hadn’t presented itself ever before.

It wasn’t something he was hopeful that he’d ever get again.


	5. Iron Chef

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that new tags have been added. They (gore, eye trauma) are relevant to this chapter. If I have missed any tags, you are welcome to let me know and I will add them. I'm still new at tagging stuff.

Riding on the electric bike was even more fun during the day. It felt nicer than riding in a car--without glass windows and walls around you, you were able to really feel as if you were a part of the world around you. The route is naturally much more scenic in the daylight--full of fields of crops, pastoral scenes complete with plenty of cows and other livestock, and historic homes.

As you watched it all go by, you clung just a bit tighter to Papyrus, resting your head against his back. You felt less awkward being close to him now, as compared to the other night. Normally it would be hard for you to be so bold, but...well. You had been plain with each other. There was no reason now to be coy.

You were able to get a good look at the exterior of his house this time. It was a cute, small house sided with wooden planks and full of a certain rustic charm. A large swath of clover-filled grass gently sloped out and away from it for at least a couple of acres until it met with the borders of a forest. It looked like a wonderful place in which to live, farm, and enjoy nature.

This was the very type of place you would choose to live in, if places like this existed in the city. It was similar to the plot of land down the way that you had actually grown up on. Breathing in deeply, you appreciated the smell of the grass and the flowers while you could--suddenly struck with the realization of exactly how fleeting your time here was.

Papyrus loudly interrupts your thoughts as he sees you pull out a small jar from your bag. “WHAT, DID YOU BRING AN INGREDIENT, TOO? YOU DIDN’T NEED TO DO THAT!”

"Oh! No, this is a gift from my mom--it’s a fresh jar of pickles! They had to take the ferry out of town for work stuff tomorrow, so she asked me to deliver it to you guys while they were away. It isn’t ready to eat yet, though--you’ll have to let it sit in your fridge for a few weeks.”

“AH--I’M HONORED! I’M GLAD YOU GOT IT OUT BEFORE WE WENT INSIDE. BECAUSE NOW I CAN HIDE IT FROM SANS.”

Papyrus ushers you inside, grinning eagerly. "WE GOT A LOT OF STUFF TO COOK WITH. COME--CHECK IT OUT!" He leads you through a simple living area into the kitchen, where various fruits, vegetables and grocery staples are sitting out.

"Wow…” There's no way you can use all this in one meal. "You really went all out! This is...way too much food!"

"WELL, WE CERTAINLY DON’T HAVE TO USE IT ALL. I WASN’T REALLY SURE WHAT TO PREPARE FOR, HONESTLY! HOPEFULLY THE SECRET INGREDIENT IS--"

“heya~” Sans has appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, just behind you. The suddenness startles both you and Papyrus.

"S.....SANS?!" He's dressed like a waiter, sporting a grin that almost looks mischievous and carrying two drinks and a little bell on a plastic tray. Papyrus’s jaw is practically dragging on the ground.

"yeah. hey, i fixed these up for you two. no need to thank me." Almost mechanically, Papyrus reaches out and retrieves a drink, never taking his gaze away from Sans’s dapper figure. 

“....SANS....:”

"you can ring this bell whenever you want more drinks. or, if you're ready for the ingredient. no rush, just take your time." He sets the tray down in front of you, bows slightly, and then disappears into thin air.

You begin to freak out. "Whaaa--!"

"THE HECK?! DID HE JUST BOW?!" Papyrus suddenly looks at you incredulously, pats your head to see if you're real, and feels his own forehead with the back of his palm, even though he's wearing his gloves.

He picks up a drink, eyeing it suspiciously before tentatively tasting it. You are still trying to figure out where Sans went.

"He, he just...he just...uhh, how did he do that?!" 

Papyrus rolls his eyes. "HE'S JUST BEING DRAMATIC. ALWAYS DID THINK IT WAS FUNNY TO MESS WITH PEOPLE WHO DON'T KNOW HE CAN TELEPORT."

He studies the drink some more as he continues on marvelling. "NOW THIS...WOW. WOOWW. I CAN'T BELIEVE HE DRESSED UP AND EVERYTHING. DIDN’T EVEN KNOW HE HAD A SUIT LIKE THAT." He pauses to take another sip before grinning over at you. "....THESE DRINKS ARE ACTUALLY PRETTY GOOD THOUGH. I WONDER IF WE COULD RING THE BELL FOR A SECOND ROUND. HE WAS DRESSED LIKE A WAITER, AFTER ALL."

"I WAS REALLY EXCITED TO JUMP RIGHT INTO IT, BUT...MAYBE WE SHOULD TAKE HIS ADVICE. TAKE OUR TIME, ENJOY THESE DRINKS AND THE BEAUTIFUL SUMMER EVENING. IT’D BE A SHAME TO HAVE SOMETHING SO REFRESHING IN THE STUFFY OLD HOUSE."

Finding the drink to your liking, you take it and follow Papyrus through the back door at the other end of the kitchen. It leads out to a set of wooden stairs leading some some six feet down to a concrete pad just large enough to be furnished by a picnic table and small barbeque pit.

"...Aah--!" As you step down you fumble slightly, distracted by the expanse of land in front of you. But before you have a chance to fall, Papyrus darts out his arm to stabilize you.

“WHOOPS! THE STEPS ARE A BIT STEEP, I GUESS. HERE, LET ME ASSIST YOU." You descend together, arm-in-arm. Not only are the stairs steep, but they also have a bit of a narrow run. You grip Papyrus’s arm tightly for support as you go down.

It feels really nice to have him holding your arm close. You feel secure this way. At the bottom, you linger for a moment before unlinking your arms as Papyrus reaches out to open the lid of the welded metal pit.

"That is a sweet grill." You are, right off the bat, immensely jealous of it.

"YEAH, PRETTY NEAT, HUH? IT KIND OF CAME WITH THE PLACE, ACTUALLY." "Do you use it much? It's pretty fun, cooking outside with a fire."

Papyrus smiles apologetically. "I--WELL, NOT REALLY, I’M AFRAID. WE DON'T REALLY USE IT VERY OFTEN. BUT I DID NOTICE THAT ANYTHING COOKED ON THIS THING TASTES AWESOME. WHY IS THAT? WHY DOES SMOKE EVEN TASTE GOOD?? YOU CAN'T EVEN EAT FIRE! AND WOOD? DON'T EVEN TRY EATING WOOD.” He paused for a moment, basking in your lighthearted laughter before continuing. “GUESS IT’LL ALWAYS BE A MYSTERY. ANYWAY--" He gestures towards the grill.

"--IT CAME WITH THE PLACE. I NEVER REALLY HAD THE DESIRE TO USE IT, EXCEPT FOR ONCE WHEN I CAME INTO POSSESSION OF A LARGE AMOUNT OF MEAT AND NEEDED TO COOK IT ALL QUICKLY, LEST IT SPOIL."

He pauses again, as if waiting for another sort of reaction from you. When you looked at him questioningly, he hurriedly continued. "SANS USES IT SOMETIMES, THOUGH! HE LIKES TO MAKE VEGETABLE SKEWERS."

“Do you have all the stuff to get a fire going? I’d love to fire it up, depending on what the ingredient is. It’s a real privilege for me to be able to use one of these, since there’s no space for one back at my place abroad.”

Papyrus nods vigorously. “ABSOLUTELY! I’D BE DELIGHTED TO SET THAT UP FOR YOU. SHAME YOU CAN’T DO IT AT HOME, THOUGH.”

You shrug. “That’s just how it is--the tradeoffs of living in an urban area. There are other ways to cook, after all.”

"HOW DO YOU NORMALLY COOK, THEN? I MEAN...WE JOKED THAT THIS WOULD BE LIKE AN ‘IRON CHEF’-TYPE COOK-OFF. SO...WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WOULD YOU BE ‘IRON CHEF’ OF?"

You take a long sip of your drink and consider his question. "I’m not really especially good at any one thing. But I guess it’d be fun to be Iron Chef Dessert. I’ll never be an actual skilled pastry chef...but one can dream! It feels so good to make and decorate stuff yourself."

“OH! THAT DOES SOUND FUN.” He taps his chin thoughtfully. “BUT I WONDER IF YOU'LL BE ABLE TO EVEN MAKE ANY DESSERTS WITH THIS INGREDIENT. SANS WOULDN'T GIVE ME ANY CLUES ABOUT WHAT IT WILL BE...”

"It'll be fun either way!" You grin, relaxing a bit. “I can improvise in the kitchen pretty well. What, are you the type of person who needs to follow the recipe to the letter?”

“NO!” He scoffed. “....MAYBE. SOMETIMES. IT DEPENDS ON WHAT I’M MAKING! WHAT, ARE YOU THE TYPE OF PERSON WHO JUST GUESSES ABOUT HOW MUCH TO PUT IN? BECAUSE THAT’S THE KIND OF ATTITUDE THAT WILL ABSOLUTELY KEEP YOU FROM BECOMING A PASTRY CHEF.”

The sky has already started to change colors, shifting from evening into night. But the air here is so muggy that it hasn't gotten any cooler yet.

The two of you sit and chat over your drinks at the picnic table for a few minutes before Papyrus remembers something. “OH, WAIT, I WAS WONDERING--"

He looks away, slightly hesitant all of a sudden. "WELL, I LOOKED IT UP AND FOUND ALL THE OLD IRON CHEF EPISODES ONLINE. IF YOU WANT, WE COULD STAY UP AFTER DINNER AND WATCH A FEW. IF NOT, THAT’S--" "No, no, that sounds perfect! As long as there's snacks."

Dinner and a movie. A quintessential first date.

"SNACKS? RIGHT AFTER DINNER?" Papyrus feigns surprise before cracking a smile. "WELL, SURELY THAT GOES WITHOUT SAYING!"

"ACTUALLY, SNACKS DON'T TEND TO, UH, LAST VERY LONG HERE. BUT I THINK WE HAVE AT LEAST SOME POPCORN. LET'S GO HAVE A LOOK."

Back inside Papyrus's house, the two of you peruse the pantry, searching for anything snackable. "OH GOODY, YES, HERE'S THAT POPCORN." He scoops up a few unpopped kernels and eats them raw, crunching violently.

"Uhhh...."

"WE HAVE A POPPER, TOO. I JUST WANTED TO FREAK YOU OUT." He snickers at your disgusted expression.

"Papyrus!! What the heck!" The blatant absurdity of it all makes you unable to suppress a small outburst of giggles. Papyrus beams, clearly proud of himself for having made you laugh.

“You should really be more careful, though!” You quickly recover in order to chastise him lightly. “I was there, remember, when you told the dentist you’d be careful with your teeth. What would you do if you broke them just for laughs like that?”

“I’D GET THE IMPLANTS. YOU WERE THERE, YOU HEARD US TALK ABOUT IT.” Still, you can see him nervously moving his jaw back and forth for a moment, making sure all is well.

The moment you ring the little bell Sans had left you, he appears again in a small flash of light, carrying with him a large pan covered by a cloth.

“IS THAT…?” Papyrus hesitates, clearly nervous. He is really taking this ingredient thing seriously, isn’t he?

“the secret ingredient? yep. you guys ready for this?” You and Papyrus both nod eagerly. Sans grins, clearly enjoying hamming up the suspenseful moment. "well...this wouldn't be 'iron chef' without an over-the-top buildup to the ingredient, would it?"

Papyrus immediately narrows his eye sockets. "......I SUPPOSE NOT...."

"What, are you going to provide commentary on the battle, too? Just like in the real Iron Chef...you could comment on every little thing, trying to guess what we’re making just by watching." The cheesy nature of the original show had always struck you as especially endearing and it was amusing to you to imagine it being reenacted here.

Sans is happy to keep the bit rolling. "well, i mean, i could. sure, why not? obviously it would be in imitation of the dubbed voices, too. but we don’t have anyone to play ohta-san..."

"........YOU GUYS ARE JOKING, RIGHT? BECAUSE THAT WON'T BE NECESSARY!" Poor Papyrus looks like he thinks the two of you are being serious about turning your date into a skit, and you are quick to reassure him that it’s just a joke.

“yeah, pap. i mean...i’ll want to hear all about it later, but i actually have other stuff to do tonight. And on that note…” Sans clears his...throat...and dramatically lowers his tray to the center of the table.

“today papyrus welcomes into his home a special guest--one who has proven to be worthy of challenge by the great iron chef pasta."

Papyrus groans already at the overly dramatic introduction, but you also see that he isn’t completely able to restrain himself from smiling.

"--but it wouldn't really be much of a challenge to have the secret ingredient be pasta-related in nature, would it? that wouldn’t be fair." Sans pauses for dramatic effect before continuing. "well. since the important task of selecting the ingredient went to me, i needed to be thorough in my decision."

He holds up a finger as he begins counting out points . "firstly. the ingredient would need to be versatile. something that both chefs can use to create to their hearts’ content."

With a solemn expression, he continues to expound. "second. the ingredient would need to be cheap." He gives Papyrus a stern look. ".....someone in this house needs to think of these things."

Papyrus is unable to prevent a singular, laughing snort from happening, which in turn causes Sans to break character and grin with self-satisfaction at his own joke. "and lastly. the ingredient would need to be something i enjoy eating.” Here, he shrugs nonchalantly. "truthfully, that didn't narrow it down much. but it was important to consider nonetheless."

Sans now places his hand atop the cloth, gripping it and apparently preparing to snatch it away and reveal the ingredient.

"taking these factors into consideration, the ingredient selected today will hopefully give both chefs a chance to show off their skills......while at the same time providing enough of a challenge to make an interesting show."

"this secret ingredient....is......"

Dramatically, he flings away the cloth from the pan on the counter.

"zucchini."

No one speaks for a moment.

Finally Papyrus manages to find the words. "ALL THAT BUILDUP....FOR SOME ZUCCHINI??"

"what...were you expecting? did i mess up??" Sans quietly panics for a moment, until Papyrus quickly reassures him. "NO, IT'S...IT’S PERFECT, ACTUALLY! JUST A BIT ANTICLIMACTIC. IN A GOOD WAY!"

You are similarly relieved. This is an ingredient you can work with. After Sans disappears again, you take a minute to survey the ingredients available to you and plan out a quick menu in your mind.

You notice a bag of chocolate chips on the table and get a wonderful idea.

Papyrus sets a timer for you to finish by, strictly warning you that you won’t be allowed more time if you run out. “WE HAVE TO MAKE SURE WE HAVE TIME FOR THE SHOW, RIGHT? THOSE EPISODES ARE REALLY LONG!”

Papyrus offers you first pick of the zucchini as he leaves briefly to gather the things needed to fire up the grill. You have plenty of time before that will even be necessary, though. If you start it now, the food will all be cold before the timer is done. 

Besides. There are other more pressing kitchen tasks at hand now: in order to make your special dish, you must first grate the zucchini. You're used to using a food processor, but you don't mind trying to do it by hand. It shouldn’t be too much different, right?

Unfortunately, It doesn't take you long to realize that it will take a really long time to grate it all this way. You start to regret choosing a recipe that requires this, but since you've already started, it feels too late to turn back.

One zucchini in, Papyrus returns. "HEY! THAT LOOKS TEDIOUS!"

You answer him with a glare pointed at the grated vegetables. "It is."

"HAHA, HAVE FUN! I ACTUALLY HAVE A REALLY EASY RECIPE TONIGHT." He chuckles to himself as he selects his ingredients from the table. "HEH HEH! YOU WILL ENJOY WATCHING ME MAKE IT, WHILE YOU ARE STUCK GRATING THOSE THINGS!"

"....You sound like a villain in a children's show that isn't allowed to be violent or hurtful in any way."

"............" Both of you pause, unsure how to proceed, before Papyrus finally breaks the silence.

"SORRY, I DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO BANTER. WAS THAT RUDE, WHAT I SAID?" 

"No. I clearly have no idea, either. Did it bother you that I compared you to a cartoon villain? It was a pretty dumb thing to say."

He smiles softly as he jokingly hangs his head. "NO. IT WAS ACCURATE."

Once his ingredients are picked out, he sets out a cutting board beside you and sets to cutting and chopping various vegetables. “LET’S WORK SIDE-BY-SIDE...IT’LL BE MORE FUN THAT WAY.”

You have to be careful not to bump into him as you grate. But you see an opportunity. "Hey, actually, since we're not strictly competing--do you mind cutting up some of my zucchini, too?"

“SURE--HOW DO YOU WANT IT?” "Really thinly. Like thin matchsticks? But only about an inch or two long." "GOTCHA."

"......."

You want to ask about what cooking was like Underground, but recognize that the subject would likely not be a pleasant one for someone who has lived through extreme famine.

So instead, you just silently watch him slicing and chopping the zucchini, along with several other ingredients he has picked out. He has asparagus. Onions. Tomatoes. One of the largest carrots you've ever seen. A bag of spinach, and a crown of broccoli.

He notices you watching. "YOU MUST BE WONDERING ABOUT MY PLANNED DISHES. WELL. IT'S A SECRET! BUT MAYBE I COULD GIVE YOU A HINT, IF YOU’RE WILLING TO TRADE IT FOR INTEL ABOUT YOUR OWN DISHES."

"Hmm...you sound pretty eager to talk about it. So okay."

"FIRST HINT: I’LL BE MAKING A PASTA DISH."

"Interesting.” You eye the box of pasta in front of him. It wasn’t much of a hint. "But how many are you planning to do?"

"JUST ONE. PASTA DISH, THAT IS. ZUCCHINI IS NOT...IMPOSSIBLE TO USE IN A PASTA. BUT PERSONALLY FEEL THAT IT’S BEST APPLICATIONS LIE ELSEWHERE." He pauses, considering something. "OH, YOU KNOW WHAT, I GUESS MAYBE MY SECOND DISH COULD TECHNICALLY BE A PASTA DISH, TOO. DEPENDING ON HOW YOU DEFINE IT. SO--TWO PASTA DISHES. AND ONE NON. NOW WHAT ABOUT YOU? HOW MANY HAVE YOU THOUGHT UP?"

He sneaks a peek at your pile of ingredients. "I ALREADY KNOW YOU'RE GOING TO GRILL SOMETHING...BUT WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU NEED TO TEDIOUSLY GRATE IT LIKE THAT FOR?"

"I'm sure you are dying to know, but I can't tell you! I know you're making a pasta dish, you know I'm grilling. We're evenly matched in our espionage, so if you want to know more about my dishes, I'll need you to cough up some more dirt on yours first!"

"HEY! THAT’S NOT FAIR--I GAVE YOU A HINT!" “But I didn’t learn anything! That’d be like if the hint I gave you was ‘it’s made with zucchini’!”

"HMM. HMMMMMMM." Papyrus takes a moment to attempt to deduce something about your planned dishes before making a guess.

"EARLIER YOU SAID YOU LIKED MAKING DESSERT....BUT WHAT IN THE WORLD KIND OF DESSERT WOULD YOU MAKE WITH ZUCCHINI? THERE’S NO WAY."

"Ahh, but there is! And you will witness it tonight." You couldn’t help but spill the beans when he was able to guess it so quickly.

Papyrus gasps in disgust and admiration. "I AM INTRIGUED...BUT SAY NO MORE, I WANT IT TO BE A SURPRISE."

Papyrus ended up doing a lot of your prepwork for you while you were grating, which took much more time than you had expected it would. Just as you were moving on to the next step, Papyrus was already sliding his first dish in the oven.

"That was fast! Are those...zucchini fries?" 

Papyrus, defeated, throws up his hands in reply. "NO USE TRYING TO KEEP SECRETS WHEN YOU CAN SEE THE DISH IN FRONT OF YOU! ...THOUGH I JUST REALIZED THAT THEY WON'T TAKE THAT LONG TO COOK. I GUESS I SHOULD'VE WAITED UNTIL NEARER TO THE END, THEY'LL GET COLD!"

"No, let's just eat them while we cook!" You are suddenly famished at the thought of waiting much longer for your meal. Apparently Papyrus is too, by the way he enthusiastically agrees.

Suddenly, he is watching you closely. Suspiciously.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST PUT IN THERE?" He looks horrified.

He has noticed you mixing the dry ingredients for your dish.

"YOU--YOU WEREN'T JOKING! YOU'RE MAKING A ZUCCHINI DESSERT?! WITH SUGAR AND...AND...THAT WAS COCOA POWDER, WASN’T IT?!"

“Ya got me. It’s just like you said: no use trying to hide it if you can see it right in front of you. I’m making chocolate zucchini muffins. And I’m excited to see how you rate them!”

When Papyrus makes a worried face, you hasten to clarify. "I mean, I don’t expect you to give them five stars. And it certainly won’t hurt my feelings if you hate them enough to give them a zero. But I'm kind of hoping for, like, a three? Three and a half? You didn't rate anything at the cafe that low, so I feel I have a good shot."

"I'M INTRIGUED BY THE IDEA OF ZUCCHINI DESSERT--THOUGH I CAN'T SAY THE COMBINATION INSPIRES MUCH CONFIDENCE IN ME. THEN AGAIN. IF YOU DID MANAGE TO FIND A WAY TO MAKE SOMETHING I DON'T ENJOY EATING, THAT WOULD BE ITS OWN SPECIAL ACCOMPLISHMENT."

Several more dishes come together over the course of the evening. A large portion of the vegetables Papyrus was chopping have been thrown together into a soup. The thinly-sliced zucchini he prepped for you has been tossed together with a little olive oil and vinegar dressing to form a light salad. And not long after the muffins had been placed in the oven, Papyrus has begun boiling a pot of pasta--for exactly which dish he would not reveal to you no matter how many guesses you made.

“HEY! DON’T YOU HAVE BETTER THINGS TO DO THAN TO TRY WHEEDLING THIS OUT OF ME? LIKE, I DUNNO, GRILL?" 

You glance at the timer with a cry of despair. "Oh--Oh noo! I really lost track of time!"

Papyrus is upbeat about it, encouraging you not to give up. "HEY, WE STILL HAVE ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES! IF YOU HURRY--YOU CAN MAKE IT! LOOK, I'LL EVEN BABYSIT THE MUFFINS FOR YOU." He peers into the oven helpfully, though you know they have plenty of time left. "GO ON AND GRILL! HURRY!"

Twenty minutes is barely enough time to light the charcoal, but the zucchinis should cook quickly once that’s done. If you bring the zucchini outside, you can prep it while you wait. Luckily, all the ingredients are already sitting in a glass casserole dish you had selected earlier for the purpose of transporting the finished skewers.

Maybe you won’t make so many, now that you don’t have much time.

Grabbing the glass dish off the counter, you barrel towards the back door which was luckily left slightly open.

As you run, you try to look out towards the grill to see where the charcoal is, craning your neck and searching for anything that looks like it might be of use.

Pounding the ground, you leap down the first step and--

Immediately, your body is thrown off-balance.

You misjudged the height of the stairs again, you realize, as you slam hard into the first step. Your entire body lurches ahead of you.

The heavy glass dish also wants to continue moving forward.

It would be a disaster if you dropped it, right? You can’t let that happen.

So you try to keep hold of it, to pull it back. But you are too precariously balanced in that single moment of jarred landing to extend your center of gravity in that way.

"'No, please don't let me drop it!” you think to yourself as you lose your own footing. "'I'm going to spoil the meal!' you think, without realizing it is too late.

You remain clutching the glass as you hurtle toward the bottom stair, your body thudding loudly against the wood and twisting unnaturally at every impact.

It is too much to process at once. But you do hear the glass as it shatters.

At the bottom of the stairs, you lay face-down, crumpled in shock.

Dazed would be the wrong word because you can feel the pain acutely.

The sharp throbbing in your chest.

The abrasions on your hands, your arms, your face.

These things are painful. But what terrifies you is the distinct feeling that something is lodged in your eye.

You do not suppress your cries of alarm and pain as you twist your face away from the ground, your body angrily protesting at being moved.

Your face is oddly wet and something is scratching your eyelid. Your only instinct is to remove whatever is stuck there. Maybe you would understand that was a bad idea, if you were thinking properly. But the only thing that matters right now is to make that pain go away!

Before your hands can make contact with the offending object, they are pulled away and restrained.

"NO! DON'T TOUCH IT!! YOUR EYE--IT'S--"

His voice falters, trembles. "OH GOD....YOUR WHOLE FACE..."

Papyrus is down on his knees beside you and holding tightly onto your wrists. You struggle against his grip, whimpering.

"It--it hurts! It hurts and I'm really scared!"

"I KNOW, BUT IF YOU RUB IT, YOU’LL MAKE IT WORSE!! I MEAN, IF--IF IT CAN EVEN GET WORSE!"

You can hear the panic in his voice. "I DON'T KNOW!! I'M NOT A DOCTOR!"

“It’s bad! It--it’s bad! Make it stop!!” You squirm yourself, trying to get free and remove the thing that’s bothering you. "WAIT, TRY TO CALM DOWN! I CAN'T--"

"papyrus! what happened?!" You can hear Sans’s voice from the top of the stairs.

"THEY FELL DOWN THE STAIRS! AND--THE GLASS--" Papyrus trips on his words in a panic.

"WE NEED TO GET THEM TO A DOCTOR--LOOK AT THEIR EYE, SANS!"

Papyrus suddenly turns his attention back to you. "HEY!! STOP STRUGGLING! IF YOU STRUGGLE...YOU'LL BLEED EVEN MORE! YOU HAVE SOMETHING...HAA, UGH, THERE'S SOMETHING STUCK IN YOUR EYE!"

“I know, I can feel it! I need to get it out!”

"NO, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND--YOUR EYE, UM--" Papyrus shudders. "WELL, I DON’T THINK THAT WOULD BE GOOD!"

You know he’s only trying to help. But you’re desperate. Tears run hot and stinging down your cheeks. "P...Papyrus, it hurts! I need to make it stop!!"

“.......” Clearly pitying you, he looks at you with a wry expression you don’t fully understand before answering you gently, yet firmly.

"YOU HAVE TO CALM DOWN FIRST SO I CAN HELP YOU." Without breaking his grip, Papyrus uses a single finger to stroke your wrist in an attempt to soothe you. "WE’RE GOING TO MAKE IT STOP. BUT TO DO THAT, WE NEED TO GET YOU TO THE DOCTOR SAFELY."

“their parents have a car, right? what’s their phone number?"

“Th...they aren’t home...just call me an ambulance...”

"YES, HE WILL. NOW TAKE A DEEP BREATH...IF YOU CAN BE CALM, I CAN LET GO."

“.....pap.”

He releases his grip, and gently smoothes out your hair, trying to smile at you. "IT'S GONNA BE OKAY. YOU'LL BE OKAY. JUST RELAX, THE BEST YOU CAN. THE AMBULANCE WILL COME, AND--"

"papyrus."

"SHUT UP. I DON'T CARE."

"papyrus, what are they going to say?"

"WE'D BE WASTING TIME BY DISCUSSING THIS!!"

"do you really think you can get away with that? do you really think you can bring a human in like that, and--" He scoffs. "and not be immediately detained?!"

What?

This pain is unbearable, but Sans is saying something confusing enough to be distracting. You wonder if you misheard him.

"De...tained? Did you say ‘detained’?"

“WELL WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?! PRETEND LIKE THIS ISN’T HAPPENING?”

"What...could you possibly be detained for? It was just an accident. All I have to do is tell them I fell down!"

The silence is deafening. But Sans doesn’t let it last.

"you....didn't tell them?!"

".........I...” You can tell from the look on his face that Papyrus has made a huge mistake. "....I DIDN'T THINK I...."

"pap, what?! are you serious?" Sans’s voice raises incredulously. "you didn't think you'd need to tell someone you're dating that--that you killed all those kids?”

Your stomach drops like a rock. You turn your head to look up at Papyrus, who stands upright, towering over you as he argues with Sans.

You want him to look shocked. Sympathetic, innocent. But from here he only looks ominous.

"OH, WHEN YOU SAY IT LIKE THAT--" He makes an exasperated gesture before pointing a finger at Sans emphatically. "BUT THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR THAT CONVERSATION! IT’S AN EMERGENCY!"

You feel compelled to speak up. "I--I'm actually interested in this conversation."

Papyrus looks down at you, suddenly losing his angry intensity. "AH--"

"Is that really true? It can’t be…”

He looks away, unable to meet your gaze. "THIS...ISN’T HOW I WANTED YOU TO FIND OUT. BUT...THERE’S NOTHING ELSE FOR IT NOW, SO.....I--” He suddenly plucks up his courage and looks you straight in the eye. “IT’S TRUE! I...I KILLED CHILDREN FOR FOOD AND FOR SPORT.”

He paused for a moment as you stared at him in shock, before clarifying in a small voice. "IT...WAS A HORRIFIC WORLD DOWN THERE."

You continue to not react. Papyrus can’t bear the tension and tries to explain further. "IT STARTED BECAUSE THERE WASN'T ANYTHING ELSE TO EAT. AND OVER TIME IT...IT SPIRALLED INTO...EVERYONE..."

".............." You want to say something. You really do. You can’t think of anything.

"I’M SORRY. I SHOULD'VE TOLD YOU BEFORE."

You look down and nod in agreement. There’s really nothing satisfying you can say. But Papyrus is able to read the disgust, the horror, the disappointment in your face.

He hangs his head in shame. "I KNOW.......AND...I’M WILLING TO TELL YOU MORE ABOUT IT. OR NEVER TALK TO YOU AGAIN, IF YOU PREFER. BUT THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH GETTING YOU TO THE HOSPITAL."

Sans immediately contradicts him. "except that we are only living here peacefully because of agreed upon terms." He turns to face you directly, his face drawn in a grim expression. ".....and papyrus’s proximity to you means that he will likely be punished for this.”

Papyrus doesn’t react to this statement. You don’t believe it at first. "No way...what are the terms? It was only an accident!"

"THIS IS USELESS! WE'RE WASTING TIME!!"

Sans ignores Papyrus’s protest. "accidents like this aren’t allowed. any altercation ending in bodily harm towards humans that involves...monsters from our universe...will end with serious repercussions for the monster." Sans’s face softens as he realizes another option. "but...maybe the other papyrus could be the one to bring you in instead. and then it wouldn't--"

"NO.” Papyrus doesn’t even let the thought finish. ”WHAT, YOU DON’T THINK THEY’D GET TO THE BOTTOM OF IT? HOW ARE WE GOING TO EXPLAIN WHAT HAPPENED THEN?...AND THEN HE’D BE DRAGGED INTO IT FOR NOTHING.” Papyrus shakes his head, smiling wryly. "BESIDES. I DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO BE RESCUED BY HIM."

"........pretty hypocritical of you to say that. you just want a turn playing hero, yourself, don't you?”

“I’M GOING TO PRETEND YOU DIDN’T JUST SAY THAT.”

“isn't that pretty selfish of you? to throw everything away over some romantic notion?"

“WHAT’S SELFISH IS THIS ENTIRE CONVERSATION! HE’S GOT A PERFECTLY GREAT LIFE! I DON’T...WANT TO MESS WITH THAT.”

"everything we've worked for...gone."

Your head is reeling. You can't think straight and you have no idea how to come to terms with what you’re hearing.

It's clear to you, however, that Papyrus doesn't deserve to be punished for your carelessness.

It’s also clear to you that you don’t want to sit here until they finally figure things out. Your body is dull and aching but still you lift it up off the ground, hoping to arrange for the ambulance yourself.

Immediately you cling to Papyrus’s leg in an effort to stand firm. Nothing in your legs seems injured, but your chest feels heavy and sore, and getting up and moving around on your own isn’t easy.

"D--DON'T OVERDO IT!" He offers you his arm for support, helping you up and allowing you to lean most of your weight on him as you walk baby steps towards the first stair.

"LOOK, IF YOU’RE NOT GOING TO CALL, I’LL JUST DO IT MYSELF. YOU CAN’T STOP ME.”

“no, i...i’ll call. i know i can’t stop you.”

“..........” Sans holds the phone to his head for a few moments before taking it away with a confused expression. "uh. i...got the answering machine."

"YOU'RE JOKING. PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE JOKING."

"it said they'd call back when there was someone available to take the call."

".....NEW PLAN. CALL THE OTHER ME." Sans is bewildered. "i thought you just--"

"ONLY SO HE CAN DROP US OFF--I’M NOT WAITING AROUND FOR A CALL BACK."

Papyrus is attempting to guide you up the stairs, but it is difficult for you. Your chest is sore and you quickly run out of breath.

"...LET ME CARRY YOU. I CAN TELL THAT YOU’RE STRUGGLING.”

"Yeah, I’d...I’d like that. Go ahead and--w-woah!” Suddenly, you feel like you're falling again. But how could it be possible for you to fall up?

You startle and flail, trying to regain your bearings. Your eye makes you squint with pain as you try not to move it around any more.

"OH! OH I'M SO SORRY--RELAX. I'VE GOT YOU. I'M JUST CARRYING YOU."

Now you can feel his arms underneath you, but you are sure they weren't there a moment ago. And he doesn't seem to be struggling under your weight at all.

He begins to carry you back up the stairs. You keep your gaze focused on your scraped up hands, trying not to think too hard about blinking or moving your eyes.

You didn’t know how to feel when you heard he was a murderer.

It didn’t feel good. And even now--it still didn’t.

But his arms...you were surprised at how safe and comforting they were.

Even after what you had learned, it still felt good to be held by him.

“Hey.....Papyrus.” You don’t know how to say this, but…

He can tell from the tone of your voice what you’re thinking about.

"YOU DON'T...I MEAN, IT--I WASN'T--"

Whatever happened with him in the past has nothing to do with what happened tonight.

“I, I UNDERSTAND THAT YOU PROBABLY WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH ME NOW. I’M SORRY I DISAPPOINTED YOU.”

You want to thank Papyrus for helping you, but have the distinct feeling that you will wind up crying if you try to say anything. So instead you cling to his chest in reply, pressing the side of your face close to him as he carries you up the stairs.

"...IT HURTS A LOT, DOESN'T IT?"

He doesn't deserve to be punished for this accident. He didn’t do anything to cause you to fall down.

".........I WISH I COULD MAKE IT ALL BETTER WITH MAGIC OR SOMETHING."

You think for just a moment about how easy it was for him to decide to set everything aside for your sake. You would never have even known about it if Sans hadn’t said anything.

"IF ONLY THAT'S HOW MAGIC WORKED."

You are suddenly consumed with dread.

"........Is...is Sans right? You..." You turn your head, looking up at him. "What's going to happen to you?"

Papyrus doesn’t look down to meet your gaze. "I DON'T CARE THAT MUCH ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO ME. BUT I DO CARE ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU." You are shocked by the sentiment.

"I'M NOT GOING TO LEAVE YOUR SIDE UNTIL ALL IS WELL." Here he smiles a faint, wry smile. "UNLESS THEY THROW ME BACK UNDERGROUND, I GUESS." You can’t believe he would joke about that, but also refuse to consider that something that horrible would even be possible.

"...........I care about what happens to you. Is that....that’s what the punishment is?"

Papyrus hastens to smile reassuringly at you, but it turns into a grimace the moment he sees your distraught face. "NO, I MEAN--DON'T WORRY. I SHOULDN'T HAVE SAID THAT."

He sets you down gingerly at the kitchen table, and lingers for a moment to reassure you. "IT'S GOING TO BE FINE. I'M GOING TO BE FINE. AND THEY TOTALLY AREN'T GOING TO DO THAT--THAT WAS ONLY A DARK JOKE." He grins apologetically.

"I SHOULD'VE SAID: I'M _NOT WORRIED_ ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO ME. BECAUSE I DO CARE ABOUT IT. BUT I WON'T BE SCARED OF IT."

He starts joking again in the opposite direction. "I'LL PROBABLY GET SOME KIND OF REALLY STERN WARNING ABOUT STAIR SAFETY. AND A MARK ON MY PERMANENT RECORD. TRAGIC? YES. BUT I’LL LIVE. NOW--WAIT JUST A MINUTE."

Papyrus pats your shoulder as if to say “stay right there,” and leaves to fetch a cool, damp rag. When he returns, he kneels to the ground and clasps his hand firmly on your shoulder.

"IT SEEMED TO ME THAT YOU MIGHT FEEL A TINY BIT BETTER IF WE CLEANED SOME OF THAT BLOOD AND DIRT FROM OFF YOUR FACE. WHAT DO YOU THINK?"

"S-sure.....thanks."

It smells like your chocolate muffins in here. You can't help but feel a little comforted by it.

But it also makes you sad, as a reminder of everything that you ruined tonight. A reminder of how only a few minutes ago, nothing was wrong. And now everything is.

Papyrus continues trying to lighten the mood. "IT LOOKS LIKE SANS IS GOING TO HAVE AN EXCELLENT MEAL. AT LEAST WE GOT TO EAT THE FRIES!"

The pain in your eye, while still severe, is something you are slowly settling into. You can’t tell if it is hurting less, or if you’re just getting used to it. But the drive to rub your eye is maddening.

You wince as Papyrus gently daubs at a particularly large scrape, then notice his face. It looks like he's trying to put on a cheerful facade. But it isn't working. "Is my face...really that bad? What does it look like?"

"OH, NO, NO, IT’S NOT THAT BAD. I'M JUST, UH, UNCOMFORTABLE WITH GORE."

That isn't very reassuring. 

His face comes close to yours as he continues to clean you off. Instead of looking away, you look at him directly, studying him from closer than ever before.

You think about what you just learned about him.

The strokes of the cold cloth are gentle, yet firm. You notice the concern--and weariness--his face betrays while he isn’t attempting to appear cheerful. He is meticulous with the cloth, now very carefully cleaning around your injured eye. He is focusing so hard on the task at hand that this time, he doesn't notice you staring. Or if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

Despite what you learned, you feel safe in his care.

Whatever had happened underground...you don’t really know anything about it, do you?

You don’t understand how the person in front of you now could have ever been a person who would do those things. Maybe it’s naive of you to think that he’s a different person now. Maybe it would be naive of you to think that you would have behaved differently if you had been him.

You are struck with the desire to embrace him. It comes on sudden and strong.

Shoving all your conflicted feelings to the side, you thrust out your arms--wrapping around Papyrus and pulling him close.

Shocked, he weakly protests for fear you'll exacerbate your injury. But he doesn’t push you away. After a moment, he relaxes. He hugs you back.

"Th...thank you.” You are practically whispering, hoping to keep yourself from crying. It doesn’t work.

"Thank you...for--for tending to me, and...and....I...I'm sorry, for...for being so careless." 

Papyrus gently smooths over your back with his hand. “SHHH, DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. IT WAS ONLY AN ACCIDENT."

"Y-yeah, but...” You swallow hard, hating yourself for bringing this upon him. “I could have prevented it. If only I had been more careful..."

"SO TECHNICALLY IT WAS A MISTAKE. YOU STILL CAN'T MAKE IT BETTER BY FEELING BAD." He pauses for a moment before remarking bitterly, “BELIEVE ME. I’D KNOW.”

That only made you feel worse. "Papyrus, I..." Your feelings aren’t translating into words right now. "......you....you're...."

He must have suffered a lot, since coming here. It must have been lonely in a world where everyone knows your dark past, and you hate yourself for what you did. It must have been painful to choose to keep going, when you weren’t even sure if you deserved to.

Suddenly you both hear a car horn honking from the driveway.

Straightening up and removing himself from your embrace, Papyrus places his hands firmly on your shoulders. "HEY. I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE. SO LET'S PICK THIS UP LATER."

He picks you up again before making long strides towards the door.

"WE NEED TO GET YOU TO THE DOCTOR!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to put here other than I love him a lot. But I really hope this chapter isn't too...over the top. I felt very inadequate writing this scene so concrit (or any feedback, really!) is more than welcome. And thank you for taking the time to read my story!


	6. Chapter 6

In the car, the other Papyrus was baffled by your shared lack of foresight.

“WHY DON’T YOU JUST GO IN ALONE AND LIE ABOUT IT?”

Stunned, you and Papyrus gape first at his other self, and then at each other.

“YEAH, JUST GO IN. TELL THEM YOU TOOK A TUMBLE DOWN THE STAIRS. TELL THEM YOU CALLED A CAB! PROBLEM SOLVED.” You can see him grimace in the rear-view mirror. “JEEZ. IT’S A GOOD THING YOU CALLED ME.”

“You don’t think they’d....specifically ask me if a monster was involved?”

“OH, ABSOLUTELY.” “UNDOUBTEDLY.”

“......Ah. Hm.” You swallow hard at the dread that fills your body, unwilling to say out loud what you are thinking. “ _ I’m really bad at lying outright like that. _ ” You can feel your face start to heat up just thinking about it.

The emergency room was bustling. Apparently, there had been some sort of an accident downtown. You supposed that explained why Sans had gotten the answering machine.

You were a ball of nerves, standing there at the admitting desk all by yourself. Just waiting for someone to ask you something about monsters, sure that you were about to stammer out something damningly stupid.

At first they only asked you about your injuries. You almost couldn’t believe it until you got a look at the admitting paperwork, which they gave to you to fill out directly after advising you to avoid moving your eye around unnecessarily. 

“Were monsters present at time of accident?” You shivered in the cold, cheerless seat, fidgeting with the ballpoint pen that had been handed to you along with a few pages of forms.

You checked the box “no,” then began to sweat when you read the next statement. “Please list time and place of accident (for purpose of monster investigation only).”

You weren’t prepared for this dystopian question in the slightest. “Uhhh…” Mind racing, you scrambled to think of what you should put down. Surely they...they don’t actually investigate every single accident?! That’s not possible. It’s literally too much work to be possible.

But what if they did investigate. You knew there were other monsters living in units around the one you’d been staying in.

Well, so what if they investigated? No one there had done anything, so...it should be fine, right?

Although...there weren’t any stairs leading from your apartment since you were staying on the ground floor. Shoot. You wouldn’t be able to explain that at all...if they really were going to investigate. You find the idea too ludicrous to consider seriously, but aren’t confident enough to dismiss it entirely.

Surely Papyrus’s house was far enough away that it would be okay to put down your parents’ address. It wouldn’t be hard to make up a story that fits your circumstances here.

Though your injury was deemed immediately urgent, there were still a few moments after returning your forms in which you were required to sit and wait for an available room. You took that time to reflect on...everything.

Were monsters and humans not getting along after all? Was it normal for monsters to be involved with human injury? You had never heard about these things happening before.

It had really seemed as if Ebbot was especially supportive of monsters until now. Hadn’t it been touted that monsters have the same rights as humans here? Everything was great, right? If not, why hadn’t monsters left, or for that matter, said anything at all?

Sans had said it was their world specifically that was targeted. Maybe it was only monsters like them who were prejudiced against. But even still, you would have expected some sort of...you don’t know. General awareness of the issue? It wasn’t adding up at all.

It suddenly occurred to you that you could search online for some answers. But before you got a chance to, it was finally your turn to be seen.

* * *

“WE REALLY SHOULDN’T STAY HERE, YOU KNOW.” 

“.........”

“YOU...HUNGRY? WE COULD---WAIT, THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT. THIS IS WHY YOU NEVER WANT TO HANG OUT, ISN’T IT? I KEEP SAYING THE WRONG THINGS.”

“....IT’S FINE. I'M HUNGRY. BUT YOU’RE THE PICKY ONE, SO...TAKE ME WHEREVER YOU WANT TO EAT, I GUESS.”

Two bowls of breakfast cereal were prepared. One with an excessive amount of milk. 

“YOU SURE THAT’S ALL YOU WANT? WE HAVE PLENTY!” Papyrus hovered the jug in the air, grinning encouragingly. It wasn’t because he was unable to stomach the idea of eating out that he had chosen to eat in his own kitchen. It was safer here, he thought. They could talk openly...if the other him wanted to.

“I’M SURE. THANKS.” Idly, Papyrus stirred the bowl in front of him--making a conscious effort to clear his mind. There were too many thoughts competing for his attention and he didn’t know where to start untangling them all.

“.....HEY. IT’LL BE OKAY!” When his encouraging words didn’t get the hoped-for response, Papyrus tried some mild reproach instead. “YOU’VE GOT A LONG NIGHT AHEAD OF YOU IF YOU’RE GOING TO STRESS THIS HARD, YOU KNOW. IT’D BE BETTER FOR YOU TO RELAX.”

“I KNOW.” Papyrus sighed, slumping over his cold dinner as the other him began crunching loudly. “......THANKS, BY THE WAY. FOR THE RIDE.”

“DON’T MENTION IT! SERIOUSLY, DON’T. I LIKE...BEING ABLE TO HELP YOU.”

Papyrus knew. That’s why he had chosen to come to him for help.

He could tell, too, by his uncharacteristically mellow behavior, that this other him was doing everything he could to make things comfortable now. He appreciated it.

There had been plenty of times before that Papyrus had felt guilty for not enjoying the presence of his unblemished self. In fact, it was usually out of guilt that he ever got in touch with him in the first place.

As they ate together in silence, Papyrus felt that this time was different.

This time he actually felt like talking.

He knew, because the other him had said so, that he was always welcome to. But it wasn’t easy to figure out how to start. For a while, he hesitated--half hoping that the invitation would be extended again, though he knew that he had refused the offer too many times before for that to be likely.

“...BECAUSE--YOU KNOW. YOU’RE ME.”

Papyrus stared into his still-untouched bowl before answering. “WELL....I’M NOT ANYMORE.”

“NO, YOU--YOU ARE. YOU ARE ME. YOU JUST...HM.” Papyrus tapped his chin thoughtfully, looking over at this sad version of himself. “YOU’RE A ME THAT BAD THINGS HAPPENED TO. AND--YOU KNOW, I CAN’T SAY FOR SURE I WOULD HAVE ENDED UP BEHAVING ANY DIFFERENTLY THAN YOU IN THAT SITUATION. BECAUSE YOU’RE ME.”

“....YOU REALLY THINK SO?” He didn’t doubt the sincerity behind the statement. But it somehow still didn’t seem likely to be true.

“I MEAN...MAYBE I WOULD! IF THAT’S WHAT YOU DID...MAYBE THAT’S WHAT I WOULD’VE DONE.” He lowers his voice, continuing with a gentler tone. “I DON’T KNOW MUCH ABOUT IT, TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH.”

That’s because they’d never talked about what happened before. Papyrus didn’t want to talk about it, not even now.

He sighs, struggling to put his thoughts into words without veering too far into those painful memories. “YOU KNOW...I HATE TO BE A CONTRADICTORY GUEST, BUT--I SIMPLY DON’T AGREE. I’M DEFINITELY...NOT YOU ANYMORE.” He has always avoided these topics of discussion before, but now… “I SEE WHAT YOU’RE TRYING TO SAY. AND I APPRECIATE IT. BUT I’M DEFINITELY NOT YOU. I THINK IT WOULD BE MORE ACCURATE TO SAY...THAT YOU’RE ME. YOU’RE THE OLD ME.” 

The other Papyrus waves his hand dismissively. “I DON’T UNDERSTAND THE DISTINCTION. YOU’RE ME, I’M YOU--IT’S THE SAME THING.”

“NO, IT--IT’S NOT. IT’S REALLY…” He sighs, unable to find the energy to explain it. The longer he thinks about it, the less his distinction even makes sense. He feels that it’s right, but can’t pin down exactly why. So he drops it. He takes a bite, frustrated at his inability to communicate.

There is one thing in particular that’s been weighing on his mind, though. He wants to talk about it. It feels related, somehow. He thinks about it as the two eat silently, sitting side by side.

After a while he breaks the silence abruptly. “YOU GOT IT WRONG. IT’S ALL THE MURDER THAT MAKES ME NOT YOU. NOT WHAT HAPPENED TO ME.”

“AH…” Papyrus doesn’t know what to say.

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN? I KILLED PEOPLE. I KILLED KIDS.”

“....YEAH…S-SORRY I--”

“DON’T, IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT. IT’S JUST...I’LL NEVER FEEL OKAY ABOUT THAT. LIKE, TONIGHT.” He hesitates, looking over at his other self.

He isn’t trying to talk anymore, but is now only looking at him intently as a listener. He doesn’t grin, or speak up, or do anything but wait with a concerned expression. Papyrus both appreciates and dreads the silence.

“BECAUSE...YOU KNOW...WHEN I SAW THEM SUFFER LIKE THAT...”

You had been calling out in pain. Crying. Struggling. Fighting him to get free so you could disturb your injury. It was too similar to things he had experienced before. It made him feel things he thought he was done feeling a long time ago.

He can’t endure the gaze of his other self. He looks away, stares into his now-soggy cereal, and braces himself against a flood of uncomfortable feelings, remembering those things.

No one says anything. Papyrus wants to console him but is struck with a deep feeling of inadequacy. He waits for the other him to regain his composure.

He swallows hard and takes a long breath in. “...I KNOW IT WOULDN’T HAVE CHANGED ANYTHING. ALL THOSE PEOPLE WHO SUFFERED AT MY HAND ARE ALREADY DEAD. BUT, I-IT FELT LIKE…” He laughs derisively. “IT FELT LIKE TAKING CARE OF THEM...AND BEING HELD RESPONSIBLE...WOULD BE A WAY TO MAKE UP FOR WHAT I DID. HOW PATHETIC.”

The other Papyrus looks at him incredulously. “PATHETIC? HOW IS THAT PATHETIC?”

“B-BECAUSE! OBVIOUSLY, IT...IT WOULDN’T HAVE MADE UP FOR ANYTHING AT ALL! SANS TOLD ME I JUST WANTED A TURN PLAYING HERO...AND...IT MADE ME MAD WHEN HE SAID IT, BUT HE WAS SORT OF RIGHT!”

Papyrus hangs his head sadly. “I’M NOT YOU ANYMORE. DON’T YOU SEE? I JUST WANTED TO FEEL BETTER ABOUT MYSELF.”

Papyrus had always wanted to be there for his other self. He had pitied him while also genuinely wanting to understand him. He recognized them as being the same person. But he wasn’t sure what to say to him now.

It felt wrong not to give him encouragement. But he really didn’t know how.

He inched his chair closer. He hesitated, then when he was reasonably sure the other him was done talking, he carefully patted his other self on the back before responding in a gentle tone.

“OKAY, SO I’M YOU. I DON’T MIND BEING YOU.” He leans in, peering around the front of him to meet his eyes. “I DON’T COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND, TO BE HONEST. IT SOUNDS TO ME LIKE...LIKE YOU WANTED TO DO THE RIGHT THING. AND THAT’S A GOOD THING, WHETHER IT WAS FOR SELFISH REASONS OR NOT.”

His tone lowers, becomes more serious. “BUT HEY. I’M REALLY GLAD YOU TOLD ME. I STILL THINK YOU’RE GREAT.”

Papyrus smiles wryly. “HEH. I WANT TO BE TOUCHED BY THAT--REALLY, I DO. BUT...DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU KNOW ME WELL ENOUGH TO SAY THAT?”

“SURE I DO! I’M YOU, AREN’T I?” He grins smugly. “OR MAYBE WHAT YOU’RE TRYING TO SAY IS THAT YOU’RE ME AFTER ALL.”

Papyrus could remember what it was like to be Papyrus. In that sense, he was Papyrus.

On the other hand, he had changed so drastically as to cause him to become a different person, while the other Papyrus would forever be a younger version of himself. In that sense, Papyrus was him. A version of himself that would never have to go through what he did or make the same mistakes.

“I’D NEVER ADMIT THIS TO ANYONE ELSE. BUT SINCE YOU’RE ME, YOU ALREADY KNOW--I DON’T ALWAYS FEEL AS GREAT AS I ACT.”

“...IT’S HARD WATCHING YOU PRETEND SOMETIMES. SOMETIMES I CAN’T EVEN TELL WHETHER YOU’RE SERIOUS OR NOT.”

“BUT THAT DOESN’T MAKE ME ANY LESS GREAT! AND--!” Papyrus suddenly slams his fist on the table, sloshing the milk left in his bowl and causing his other self to jump in surprise. “AND THAT’S HOW I KNOW WE’RE THE SAME!! I’LL BE YOU IF YOU WANT, BUT REALLY! I KNOW WE’RE THE SAME!”

“HEH...WHAT?” Without completely understanding, Papyrus began to chuckle. He was really beginning to tire of figuring out who was who. But his other self’s enthusiasm was, for once, uplifting him. “THAT’S...OKAY, I DON’T THINK THAT’S RIGHT AT ALL, ACTUALLY. BUT I WON’T PUSH IT.”

With a sudden warm feeling, Papyrus paused, briefly thinking about what all had been said. “Y’KNOW, I DON’T KNOW IF I REALLY EXPLAINED OR FIGURED OUT ANYTHING AT ALL JUST NOW...BUT IT WAS NICE TO TALK ABOUT IT.” Papyrus hesitated, then grinned over at his energetic other self. “I THINK I...I’D LIKE TO EAT CEREAL TOGETHER MORE OFTEN WITH YOU.”

Papyrus sneered jokingly. “WELL THAT’S FUNNY. BECAUSE IT DOESN’T EVEN LOOK LIKE YOU ATE WHAT I GAVE YOU.”

“HAH!” Noticing his soggy bowl, Papyrus quickly gulped down what little was left before clarifying. “I MEANT--IT WOULD BE NICE TO UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER BETTER. I WANNA DO THIS AGAIN. UNDER...MORE PLEASANT CIRCUMSTANCES NEXT TIME.”

He hesitated, remembering his uncertain prospects. “IF WE GET THE CHANCE.”

* * *

After patiently listening to the nurses’ and doctor’s explanations, you had been prepped for a surgery that would repair your eye. You were amazed to learn that even eyes that have been traumatically punctured such as your own generally stand a very good chance at recovering. It was even possible for your vision to recover quite a bit, though it wasn’t likely it would ever be especially good.

You hadn’t even thought for a minute about what the surgery would be like. Why would you, if you’d be asleep for it anyway? You don’t reckon there’s any medical procedure you would turn your nose up at right now, with the pain and discomfort you’re experiencing.

But it still makes you feel anxious, being all alone here. You wish you didn’t have to be alone. Your own nervousness reminds you of the way you met Papyrus only a few days ago, and how he had asked you, a stranger, for companionship and support. You wished he was here so you could take a turn asking. It would be easy for you since you already knew each other this time. You find yourself wondering if you would have been brave enough to make yourself so vulnerable as to do what he did, and ask a stranger. Probably not.

It’s disorienting how suddenly you are in another place after being administered the anesthetic. You don’t remember falling asleep, nor do you remember waking up. But it feels like you’ve been staring at the door of this generic-looking hospital room for ages, yet if not for the bandages over your eye you would be certain that you were still waiting for the surgery to begin.

You once read somewhere that sleep is your mind’s way of processing emotions and memories at the end of the day. Right now you feel robbed of that somehow. It’s as if something in your mind was deleted, rather than organized and put away.

Your subconscious effort to fill in those gaps is making it difficult for you to focus, but as you wake up even more, your nurse mentions getting you ready to be discharged. Groggy as you are, you’re still eager to get back to your temporary apartment--which you can’t exactly refer to as home, but still prefer to this sterile, impersonal room. 

The nurse frowns when you lie, saying you plan on taking a cab home. You’re still frightened of somehow implicating Papyrus, but you learn it is strictly disallowed to release patients without a friend or family member to accompany them so soon after being put under. You are advised to call someone close enough that you would be able to ask them to stay with you even after you arrive home.

Wait...isn’t that bad? If Papyrus...is the closest person to you...would that make him suspicious? Is this a bad idea?

You can’t really tell if the danger has passed yet or not. No one here had seemed very concerned about investigating the involvement of monsters in your injury in the first place. But you are still very anxious about making a mistake.

You stare at your phone. Maybe you shouldn’t ask him. You know he’ll definitely come if you do.

But isn’t he probably waiting for you? Wouldn’t he be worried if you never asked for a ride back? You can’t just not let him know what’s happening.

Some time after you decide to text him, you can hear his voice just outside your room. And despite what you learned tonight, you feel a sense of relief wash over you when you finally see his face peer in through the doorway.

“AH...HEY.” He greets you with a small wave and a worried smile as he approaches your bed. “THE...UH…” He hesitates, looking back to the door as the nurse follows him inside.

The nurse doesn’t miss a beat, immediately asking the two of you what the plan for the night is. 

“OF COURSE I DON’T MIND STAYING WITH YOU...” His gaze lingers on you questioningly, as if he expects you to object to the arrangement. 

The nurse, however, doesn’t wait. Discharge procedure is immediately commenced and you find yourself bombarded with a mountain of information about your post-operative care that you are grateful Papyrus is there to help you keep track of.

As you leave the building together, Papyrus’s voice is lower than usual as you make your way to the car. “DO YOU...UM, DO YOU ACTUALLY WANT ME TO STAY WITH YOU TONIGHT? BECAUSE I’M HAPPY TO, IF THAT’S SOMETHING YOU’RE ACTUALLY OKAY WITH. THEY REALLY SEEMED TO THINK IT WOULD BE GOOD FOR YOU…”

You think back to the brief, comforting closeness you had shared with Papyrus just before coming here. Is it strange that there’s no hesitation in your mind when you think that you want him to stay? Even after what you learned? Is it strange that you want to pick up right where you left off?

Is this the wisest, most well-thought-out, most deliberate decision you’ve ever made? No. But who cares. You like Papyrus and you don’t want to be alone tonight. What if the nurses were right, and it was safer to have a little support nearby? In that case, it would be a good idea to accept his offer.

And what if he does get in trouble somehow? You don’t actually think this is likely. But you’d regret it if you never got the chance to continue where you left off from.

“I do want you to stay. If it isn’t troublesome for you.”

“EVEN AFTER…?”

You know what he’s thinking of even before his voice finishes trailing off.

“That’s...well. Yeah. I do.” You reach out and slip your arm around his, the same way you had both done earlier tonight. You want him to reassure him somehow.

“You know....you said earlier that there was more you wanted to say about it, and--”

He corrects you immediately. “NO. I SAID I WAS  _ WILLING _ TO TALK ABOUT IT. NOT THAT I WANTED TO.”

You have arrived at the car. You both hesitate, not wanting to continue this conversation inside.

“Then...let’s don’t. Let’s don’t talk about it.”

His expression flickers with bewilderment, but only for a moment before he is able to control it, now looking at you uneasily.

“WELL. ALRIGHT. LET’S DON’T.”

Fortunately, the mood is lifted tremendously as the ride home commences. You think this is thanks to Papyrus’s other self, who makes a big show about excusing you from the monster-human relations event.

“IT’S REALLY AN ENORMOUS PITY, THOUGH. YOU WERE SUCH A PROMISING PUZZLESMITH!”

Papyrus has been looking at you intently, but only now does he speak up. “SO....YOU TWO WERE GOING TO SHOWCASE THE PUZZLE EVENT TOGETHER? I HAD NO IDEA.”

You nod once, not sure if you should play up a faux disappointment or not. Truthfully speaking, you don’t think the puzzles are really for you.

“...THAT REALLY IS A BUMMER.” Papyrus shakes his head, looking as disappointed as if it were he who was suddenly unable to participate.

You turn your gaze to look to his other self in the rearview mirror. “Yeah...especially since there wasn’t anyone else besides us there.”

The relaxed, congenial air suddenly turns a bit cold.

“NO ONE ELSE...THERE?” You don’t understand Papyrus’s reaction at all. He looks sad.

“HEY, QUIT. QUIT IT! YOU CAN’T COME, ANYWAY. I CAN ONLY HAVE HUMANS ON THE TEAM.”

Once you exit the car, Papyrus lingers back, talking to his other self privately before catching up to you and offering you his arm again, this time with a calm smile on his face.

You walk in silence for just a little while before Papyrus speaks up softly.

“I LIKE THIS DEVELOPMENT. IT MAKES ME FEEL…” He hesitates. “IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE THIS IS REAL.”

You squeeze his arm close to your body. “You mean this? Walking arm-in-arm?” “EXACTLY.”

“Well of course it’s real,” you laugh, before adding, “....I like it a lot, too.”

“NO, I MEAN--” You break formation for just a moment while you dig in your bag for the key and open the door. “...NEVERMIND. HUH. THIS PLACE IS DIFFERENT THAN I EXPECTED.”

The two of you look around at the barely furnished open living space, and you wonder if there’s even anywhere for Papyrus to sleep besides the floor. He’s definitely too big for the loveseat unless he curls up tightly on his side.

“It’s a bit empty, honestly.” “JUST A LITTLE, YEAH. BUT THAT’S OKAY.” Noticing your kitchen, he immediately pokes through a few cabinets. “OKAY, BUT THIS IS... MY GOODNESS, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO COOK YOU BREAKFAST IN HERE?”

“Hah...don’t worry about that. I’m not sure I’m supposed to be eating in the morning, anyway.”

“AH, R-RIGHT. THIS GIANT STACK OF PAPERS PROBABLY SAYS SOMETHING ABOUT THAT.” He sets your discharge information down on the countertop, along with a bag of medications he was entrusted with. “HERE...I’M SURE YOU’RE EXHAUSTED. DO YOU WANT TO GO LIE DOWN OR SOMETHING? I’M GONNA LOOK THROUGH HERE AND SEE ABOUT BREAKFAST...IF YOU LIKE, I MEAN.”

You let him. Your head was too sore to try to read the print on those papers, anyway. Retreating to the bedroom, you prepared to sleep, curling yourself up into the soft bed.

That fluffy bed was the most welcoming part about this bare-bones apartment and the only thing about it that you were going to miss. You tried your best to enjoy it the same way you had every other night of your stay so far, but even though you were, as Papyrus had noticed, exhausted, you still weren’t able to sleep.

You brought a hand up to the bandage covering half your face, cautiously brushing the tips of your fingers over it. It was cool to the touch, and the soft strands of gauze tickled your skin. You wondered how long it was going to be on you, anyway. Maybe it was written in your discharge papers.

You almost didn’t want to look at that mountain of paperwork. Even though you knew that it would be important for you to understand what was going on, you didn’t want to have to think about it.

You began to feel just a little bit angry that this happened to you at all. One thing that the doctor had explained to you has embedded itself into your mind and you can’t shake it loose.

It’s possible you might lose this eye, even after everything they did to save it.

Of course, that’s what you had feared in the first place. When you were sitting there alone in the waiting room, wondering about the relationship between humans and monsters, that fear was there in the back of your mind. You hadn’t had the guts to confront it then, but looking back now you can see it clearly.

When you had heard that your eye could be saved, you had taken it for granted that your eye would be fine. Even when the doctor had warned you there was not a small chance that it wouldn’t.

But now that everything was said and done....you realized that even just the chance of failure was terrifying. You realized that you really, really didn’t want to lose that eye.

It wasn’t that you thought that losing it would be life-shattering. Your eye was a part of you that you had taken completely for granted until now. You liked being able to use it without thinking about it. You liked being able to live in a world where you never had to consider that injuries like this one were possible.

If your eye was able to pull through, you could return to that blissful state of ignorance and ungratefulness. It’s almost certain that you would, over time. Frights and freak accidents like this don’t often have the power to completely change one’s perspective as much as one might hope.

But if your eye wasn’t able to pull through. If you lost it? Well. You would never be able to forget about something like that. You’d always be reminded of it even just from the way you looked. From the way other people looked at you. From the way you’d have to be extra cautious to take care of your remaining eye. It would be a shift in perspective, both literally and figuratively, that you hoped you would never be forced to experience.

You continued thinking about these things for some time. Exactly how long, you weren’t sure. It could have been only a little while, or possibly an hour or more. But it eventually became clear to you that you wouldn’t be able to sleep this way. You stirred, forcing your stiff muscles up and out of bed for a drink of cool water.

What you saw at the counter made your heart skip a beat. It was too cute to be real.

Papyrus had fallen asleep there, in what looked like the most uncomfortable position you could have possibly imagined. His knees were folded up awkwardly, feet resting on the framework of the barstool he was perched atop. Lanky legs notwithstanding, he had somehow been able to fold himself forward, his skull face-down on top of a disarray of papers.

His arms were resting on the counter as well, folded up under his chest. At some point he had apparently knocked over an empty plastic cup that was now laying on its side. You felt so bad for him, watching him sleep like that and wondering at how it was even possible. The only thing for it was to move him to a more suitable sleeping place.

First you whispered his name. You got no response.

Next you called out softly. No indication of life was made.

Just as you were ready to give up and let him sleep that way, you realized you couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. Suddenly worried, you reached out and placed a hand on his back. There was no movement whatsoever.

That was to be expected if he didn’t have lungs. But it still concerned you. Fears mounting, you found yourself grabbing his shirt and shaking as you called out his name, eager to see him wake up.

He jumped up with a sharp cry, a panicked look in his face for just a moment before he was able to register your presence there beside him.

“S...sorry. I thought you might be dead.” You realize what a stupid thought that probably was when you had to say it out loud.

“UGH...I MIGHT--IF, IF I FALL ASLEEP LIKE THAT...GGH, I MIGHT, Y’KNOW, BE ANYWAY…...OW...”

He’s barely making any sense. You try to encourage him to find a more comfortable spot. He doesn’t resist the idea and gets down from the stool, staggering towards the loveseat. 

You can definitely see that he won’t fit on it. You grab his wrist as he moves towards it.

“Wait. I don’t think you can fit on that, either...darn. What do you even sleep on at home?”

“JUST A...A REGULAR BED....I DON’T REALLY MIND MY FEET HANGING OVER THE EDGE, ACTUALLY...”

“Ah, of course. That was kind of a dumb question I guess.”

As you were considering how to frame your next proposal, Papyrus suddenly grins and leans down to your level.

“WHY? ARE YOU GOING TO INVITE ME INTO YOUR BED?”

“Well, yeah, actually.”

The sleepy, teasing look he was giving you immediately vanishes and is replaced by one of alert mortification. “NO--WAIT! I WASN’T TRYING TO INVITE MYSELF INTO YOUR BED! THAT WAS ONLY…”

Cheeks burning, he lets his protest hang in the air unfinished. 

“UM...REALLY?”

You rest your hand on his arm. “Yeah. Come get comfy. It’s such a comfortable bed.”

You notice he is hesitating. “But it’s obviously fine if you don’t want to. Maybe we could lay a blanket out on the ground, then?”

“N...NO, IT’S NOT THAT. UGH, THIS IS GOING TO SOUND TERRIBLE BUT IT’S NOT. ...I’M JUST WONDERING...IF YOU HAVE LOTS OF OPPORTUNITIES TO INVITE PEOPLE INTO YOUR BED OR SOMETHING? I DON’T CARE EITHER WAY, I’M JUST--”

You interrupt him, unphased by the question. “Not really. You’re the first, actually.”

Papyrus smiles incredulously as he responds. “I...BUT YOU DID IT SO CASUALLY...” He shakes his head at you, still grinning in disbelief.

“All we’re going to be doing is sleeping.”

“OF COURSE.”

".................”

“And cuddling, if you want. You did say we could pick it up later. Before.”

“I DID…?” He pauses, thinks back. “I SEE. I DID SAY THAT, YES.”

“--!!!” Suddenly you feel the ground vanish from beneath your feet again as you are scooped up into Papyrus’s arms.

“Aiya! How are you doing that without moving your arms, anyway? You’re using magic, aren’t you??”

“I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT,” he very obviously lies, unable to contain a grin.

“.....OKAY, YES, IT’S MY MAGIC. SHOULD I WARN YOU NEXT TIME? I’M SORRY.”

“Heh…” You wrap your arm closest to him around his side and give him a reassuring pat on the back. “Don’t apologize. I like the surprise of it.”

“OH--CAN’T FORGET THIS STUFF.” He grabs a couple of bottles of medication from off the table before striding back towards the bedroom.

“IT’S A GOOD THING YOU WOKE ME, BY THE WAY. YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE TAKING DROPS OF THESE EVERY HOUR.”

“You mean…” You look at the shape of the bottles. “Drops in my eye?”

“YES. EVERY HOUR.” “Even when I’m sleeping??” “YES. YOU’LL NEED TO SET AN ALARM.”

“But what about my bandage? How will we get it back on…”

“IT DOESN’T NEED TO STAY ON. YOU’RE EXPECTED TO TAKE IT OFF.”

“Oh...” You give him a thankful squeeze around his side. “.......Thanks…” You find it touching that he really did pore over all those papers in an effort to take care of you.

Set down and propped up against the head of the bed, you begin tentatively feeling around your bandage, unsure how to remove it.

Papyrus has noticed the concern on your face. “OH...ARE YOU NERVOUS?”

“A...little. I don’t want to take it off.” You find a small piece of tape securing the bandage at the back of your head and set to peeling it away. “I’m kind of scared to look at it, honestly.”

“I DON’T MIND DOING IT. IF YOU LIKE. I’M SURE IT LOOKS BETTER NOW THAN IT DID EARLIER.”

“O..kay...but...you know, it’s not just that…” You pause, taking a moment to consider your words as you continue to unravel the mass of gauze wrapped around your face. “I’m nervous to see how bad the damage was...to my vision, I mean.” Your eye is becoming more aware of light the more gauze is removed, which you consider to be a good sign.

“WELL...HOWEVER BAD IT IS NOW, IT CAN ONLY GET BETTER FROM HERE.” He smiles hesitantly at you as he gathers up the lengths of gauze that are becoming a tangled mess in your lap. “ASSUMING IT HEALS PROPERLY, I GUESS…”

It shouldn’t have been much of a surprise, but you find that your vision is indeed extremely poor--everything appearing like a shapeless blur in front of your eye. You shiver involuntarily, your skin feeling clammy and cold now that it’s exposed to the ambient air. Pressing his hand against your temple, Papyrus encourages you to turn your head back as he administers the drops.

“IT’S OKAY...THEY WON’T HURT.” His fingertips brush gently against your scalp in an attempt to comfort you as he quickly drips one and then another medication into your eye. 

“IT’S AMAZING HOW MUCH BETTER THIS LOOKS NOW. I MEAN….IT’S ALL RED, AND SWOLLEN, BUT…” You blink back the wet medicine, resisting the urge to wipe your eye dry.

“BUT IT LOOKS LIKE A NORMAL EYE AGAIN. WOW.” He’s staring intently at it, admiring the surgeon’s handiwork. “I HAD NO IDEA IT WAS POSSIBLE TO FIX THAT SO COMPLETELY.”

Leaning back into the bed, you set an alarm for one hour in the future. Papyrus doesn’t move, but instead kneels down onto the floor, placing his hand up on the bed by your shoulder to get your attention.

“Hm? You not getting in after all?” You try not to sound disappointed. He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to.

“IT’S NOT THAT.” You turn yourself to look at him directly. “YOU’VE BEEN VERY...NONCHALANT TONIGHT. VERY FEARLESS. AND--I. UM.” He pauses, taking one of your hands in his own gloved hand and looking down to study it. “I’M JUST GOING TO TRY AND DO THE SAME. DO WHAT FEELS RIGHT. AND TRY NOT TO...THINK TOO HARD ABOUT IT. WOULD THAT BE OKAY?”

“Of course...” 

“THIS IS...JUST FOR FUN. AND IT’S JUST FOR NOW. AND I’M OKAY WITH THAT.”

"Are you sure? You don’t...sound sure.” 

“I AM.”

“Then hold me.”

“PFFT!” He sputters out a laugh, surprised at your directness. “TSK, TSK.” Shaking his head at you, he nevertheless immediately goes round and, flipping off the lights along the way, clambers up into the bed and wastes no time before pulling you into an embrace from behind.

“HAS ANYONE EVER TOLD YOU YOU ARE  _ OVERWHELMINGLY _ STRAIGHTFORWARD?”

“.....No. But I don’t doubt they were thinking it.”

“YOU REALLY JUST SAID ‘HOLD ME’,” He squeezes you once, for emphasis. “TO SOMEONE YOU MET FIVE DAYS AGO, WHO HAS OPENLY ADMITTED TO MURDERING CHILDREN.” You can feel him shake his head in amazement behind you. “I DON’T KNOW, I THINK THIS GOES BEYOND JUST BEING STRAIGHTFORWARD. HAS ANYONE EVER TOLD YOU YOU HAVE TERRIBLE JUDGEMENT?“

“Well. Maybe. But I don’t think it’s a fair assessment. I’m not always... _ this  _ straightforwa--”

“..........” Your breath catches in your throat as Papyrus nuzzles into the back of your head, enjoying the sensation of your hair against his face. “MMPH...YOU’RE NOT?”

“N...no. I’m not. But…” You swallow hard, still reeling from the emotions you feel as Papyrus brings his face away again. “But with you...it’s easier.”

“I WONDER WHY.” His voice sounds sad for some reason. “NOT THAT I’M COMPLAINING. NO, NOT AT ALL…”

You feel his arm unwind from around your waist, then his fingers combing through your hair before you t urn over, now laying face to face with him. “Maybe...it was easy for me to be straightforward. Because it was easy for me to see what you were thinking.”

“YOU MEAN BECAUSE YOU EAVESDROPPED.” “That...really helped, yes.”

“WELL…” He doesn’t remove his hand, but begins smoothing over your hair instead, conveniently avoiding your gaze by focusing on the actions of his hand. “I WISH I COULD CHIDE YOU. TELL YOU THAT EAVESDROPPING ISN’T NICE. BUT...GOD, I’M GLAD YOU DID.”

He brings his eyes down to meet yours. “I PROBABLY NEVER WOULD HAVE WORKED UP THE COURAGE TO SAY ANYTHING OTHERWISE. ACTUALLY..." His expression darkens somewhat. “THAT NIGHT, WHEN I BROUGHT YOU HOME, I FELT REALLY STUPID. LIKE I WAS CHASING SOME CREEPY FANTASY WITH A STRANGER."

“Noo…it wasn’t...” He smiles wryly at you. “...It wasn’t _exactly_ like that.”

"......WELL...BUT IT WAS HARD NOT TO GET IN OVER MY HEAD LIKE THAT." Papyrus breaks away, pulling back and propping himself up on one arm. "YOU DIDN'T REJECT ME RIGHT OFF THE BAT."

"Does that happen to you a lot?" You knew it was a stupid thing to ask the second the words left your mouth based solely on the expression he wore.

"IT'S ALL THAT'S HAPPENED SINCE I GOT HERE."

".........Oh. Right."

"....................."

Papyrus reaches out and takes your hand in his. "BUT IT'S OKAY. I STARTED GETTING THE HANG OF IT NOT TOO LONG AGO."

"OBVIOUSLY, IT WASN'T...AN IDEAL WAY TO LIVE. BUT...” He smiles pensively. “IT WAS ABSOLUTELY NOT THE WORST, EITHER." He’s tracing circles into your hand absentmindedly now, looking thoughtful.

Squeezing his hand, you muse aloud. "....I wonder what would be your ideal way to live, then?"

"HMM…” He has to stop what he’s doing to focus on the question. You notice his eyes squint up, a little like his alternate self, and can’t help but appreciate how cute it is.

"Hypothetically, I mean."

"I’M THINKING, I’M THINKING. ...Y’KNOW, HONESTLY, I DON'T THINK I'M A PICKY MAN. I'D LIKE TO LIVE WITH A FRIDGE FULL OF FOOD." He smiles wistfully.

"..........WITH SOMEONE WHO LOVES ME......." He squeezes your hand so slightly that you aren’t sure if you imagined it or not.

"AND MAYBE ALSO A CAT." Pulling his hand back, he smiles at you proudly before remembering one last thing.

"IT WOULD ALSO BE NICE TO HAVE LESS BAGGAGE. AND MORE FRIENDS."

You nod approvingly. "That all sounds very reasonable. I'm sure you can find a life like that one day."

“I'M GLAD YOU THINK SO. I’VE ALREADY GOT THE FOOD...AND SANS LOVES ME BECAUSE HE’S MY BROTHER, SO...I MEAN, TWO OUT OF FIVE ISN’T BAD. BUT WHAT ABOUT YOU? WHAT DOES YOUR IDEAL LIFE LOOK LIKE?"

"Hmmm..." Papyrus leans in, listening eagerly.

"...........I dunno.” You feel embarrassed at not having anything specific to say. “I used to think I just wanted to leave this place no matter what. Start over fresh, somewhere else."

You frown, and Papyrus immediately brings a gloved hand to your cheek, his expression encouraging you to continue.

"....But now I kind of think planning my whole life out of spite was not as fulfilling I thought it would be.” He nods understandingly.

"I guess, ideally...I would also really like to not lose this eye."

"UNDERSTANDABLE."

".......And......Not to copy yours or anything, but--"

"NO, PLEASE, HELP YOURSELF!”

"Heh, well--having more friends would be awesome. It feels kind of like, up until now...I've been okay at meeting people, kind of good at tagging along, but...never really had a successful 'connection' with someone else, you know?"

"I SEE..." He refrains from suggesting that maybe most people aren’t interested in moving as quickly as you are.

"At this point........I'm also kind of wondering if I even care if I get fired, after all."

".....HM?"

"It's a long story. Stuff about work that I basically came here to run away from."

“AH…” “It’s not as interesting as it sounds, believe me. I guess I'm just saying all this to say, I'm not really sure about what my ideal life would include. I thought I used to know, but coming back home has really changed things up.  Right now...I'm just trying to enjoy it day by day..."

He comes forward, wrapping his arms around you again and pulling you close before gently tapping his forehead against your own.

“ME TOO. ME TOO……HEY--” He pats your cheek briskly as if to scold you. “YOU NEED TO BE GETTING TO SLEEP. TURN AROUND AGAIN AND LET ME HOLD YOU.”

“No...wait. I think it’s...it’s my turn to hold you, isn’t it?” You can see from his pleased expression that it should be, though he pretends to protest.

But then he turns around. You feel like a tiny little backpack as you press yourself close, hugging him from behind.

It felt so good to be held. Papyrus had been working up the courage to ask just as directly as you had, but had unfortunately continued to second-guess himself up until this point, never quite believing it was the right moment.

The fact that you had suggested it...the fact that you were delightfully soft and warm...the fact that this bed actually was every bit as comfortable as you had made it out to be…all these things together blanketed him in a blissful satisfaction.

He was out like a light. You were, too.

Tonight, your minds both had a lot to process. Process, organize, and store away. In the process of completing those tasks, dreams would be made.

Surely, because of this closeness, some of those dreams would be sweet. Maybe you would even see each other there, in your dreams. Your own minds’ approximations of each other, anyway.

Or maybe the constant alarms and medications would prevent any significant dreaming tonight. Now that would be a shame.

We can never know for sure which it might be. Your brain throws memories of dreams away in the garbage when you wake up because they aren’t real.

But the memories processed throughout the night, those were real. And though the future of this relationship was such that it probably wouldn't be able to last beyond the end of the month, those memories would stay with you always.


End file.
